Threatened
by IstariannaCrudgo
Summary: When the Shield world Protegat comes under threat John Sheppard and his team must lead the Atlantis military in a campaign to defend their new allies from annihalation. Part 2 of the Protegat series.
1. Prologue

Justicer Xerath stormed into High Command's control room, her guards barely having time to announce her arrival before she began barking orders. "Get Orbital Defence on comm, I want a direct line, now! Put the Sky Fleet on high alert! And notify civilians, I want the city locked down immediately!" She glared around the room as officers scurried to follow her orders. "Commander Tylo, what's this all about?"

"The long-range scanners the Lanteans repaired have picked up a small fleet of Wraith ships in the outer reaches of a neighbouring solar system," Tylo answered in crisp tones.

The Justicer scowled. "Has the parasite found Protegat?"

Commander Tylo shook his head slowly. "There's no way to know for sure."

"What is their current heading?" Xerath demanded.

The Commander looked down at one of the tech officers, who answered after a moment's pause. "At their current pace and trajectory, they'll be over Protegat within a week."

A muscle around the Justicer's eye started twitching, as her face struggled to remain impassive. "Where's my line to Orbital Defence?" she barked.

"Putting it through now, Justicer," another officer replied.

"I want the entire city on the highest alert!"

Alarms activated, echoing through the city, and the Justicer nodded, before turning her attention back to Orbital Defence as the line came through.

"Warm up the Ancestral Weapons, Protector," she said in a measured voice, calm and yet able to cut through the noise of the alarms and organised chaos of High Command. "We may have wraith on our doorstep before the week is through."

Receiving an affirmative, she cut the line. Orbital Defence had their orders, but High Command was not finished yet.

"Contact Gate Control," Xerath commanded, "tell them to cancel all outgoing wormholes until I clear them for resumption of scheduled travel."

"Yes, ma'am," Commander Tylo snapped a salute before commandeering a comm station.

A tech officer paused, a hand held up to their comm device. "Ma'am? Sky Fleet is requesting a rally point, where should we send them?"

"I want patrols around the city, focusing on the weapons platforms," Xerath ordered, "they are our best line of defence, and they will be protected at all costs!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Another technician called out, hands still flying across his station. "Ma'am, Gate Control has been locked down, all civilians are being evacuated as we speak."

"Good," the Justicer said. "Now dial Atlantis."

The technician nodded, relaying the command to Gate Control.

Justicer Xerath watched the frantic activity through High Command with an impassive calm. As she slowly checked her personal side-arm, she murmured softly, "It's time to enact the Joint Defence clause of our treaty."


	2. Old Friend

"How much longer are we gonna have to wait around for this guy?" Rodney whined.

Sheppard and Teyla exchanged a glance as Ronon sighed irritably. It was not the first time since they had sat down that McKay had asked that question. Setting down his wooden mug of cider on the rough-hewn timber table, the Colonel rolled his eyes.

"Look, Rodney, Teyla's guy said he had intel we need to know. Now, I don't want to waltz out of here just because you're bored and possibly miss out on some vital info, do you?"

"If it really was that important, don't you think he would have turned up on time?"

Teyla's eyelids did that fluttering thing that meant she was reaching the limits of her patience. "Doctor McKay, I have known Tallan for a long time, and he was a good friend of my father's even before I was born. He has always been a cautious man, but dependable. He will be here."

Rodney finally seemed to measure the danger in her tone and fell silent, mulling over the dregs of his own cider.

About another half-hour passed, as the team sat quietly, keeping a subtle watch over the other patrons in the crowded inn. Finally, they were approached by a cloaked man in nondescript clothes with greying hair.

"Teyla," he greeted in a quiet, gravelly voice. "It has been many days."

"Too many," Teyla agreed in a low voice.

"I don't have much time, so let's skip the introductions," Tallan said with barely a glance at the rest of AR-1. "Word is the Lanteans have provided many people of the galaxy with a new world to shelter on, protected from both Wraith and Replicator."

"Well, we wouldn't know anything about that," Sheppard said evasively.

Tallan growled. "Don't take me for a fool, Colonel. Whether you admit it or not matters little, what's important is that you be prepared to defend this world."

Teyla's brow furrowed as she turned her head to glance at John before focusing back on her friend. "Tallan, what have you heard?"

"Wraith worshipers have made their way to Protegat, and you can bet their masters won't be far behind." Tallan stood abruptly, disappearing into the crowd in a flash of his cloak.

"Oh, crap," Rodney breathed.

John leapt to his feet, Ronon following suit. "We have to get back to Atlantis immediately."

* * *

As the wormhole winked out behind them, Sheppard and his team were already bolting up the stairs.

"How'd it go?" Colonel Carter asked as they pulled up next to her.

"Dial Protegat!" Sheppard ordered.

"Colonel, do you want to tell me what's going on?" Carter pressed.

"There are wraith worshipers on Protegat," Teyla answered tersely.

Carter's eyes widened for a brief moment before her head snapped to look at Chuck. "Do it."

Nodding, Chuck began dialling out, but before the wormhole could be established, the entered sequence flashed out, immediately replaced with the Atlantis gate address as someone else dialled in.

"Incoming wormhole," Chuck announced as the new wormhole _kawooshed_ into existence. "Receiving the Protegan High Command IDC."

Sheppard and Carter exchanged a glance as Justicer Xerath's voice rang through their radios.

_"This is Magister Protector Justicer Xerath calling Atlantis base on behalf of the Protegan people in accordance with the Comminatio Protocol. Colonel Carter, if you can hear me, respond immediately."_

Sam hit the button to open the channel. "Justicer Xerath, we hear you. We were about to dial out to you-"

_"Colonel, the Wraith are bearing down on Protegat. I am officially invoking the Joint Defence clause of our treaty."_

"We heard there were wraith worshipers on Protegat, but we didn't know how far out the Wraith themselves are," Carter responded as Sheppard radioed Major Lorne.

_"They will be here in six days,"_ Xerath's voice was taught with stress.

"Justicer, this is Colonel Sheppard," John said, "how many ships do they have?"

_"One Hive, five Cruisers."_

Sheppard nodded to Carter, indicating she should take over, as Lorne arrived and John left with his second-in-command, running defensive strategies past each other, heading for the armoury.

"...Obviously the weapons platforms are the main point of defence, but we'll bring all the railguns and Puddlejumpers we can," John said as they entered the armoury, a team of marines now in tow.

"The _Daedalus_ is currently in orbit, and the _Apollo_'s not far out either," Major Lorne reminded him.

"Right, Caldwell can ship some heavy artillery for us, but for now we'll take what we can in the jumpers."

The marines fanned out, packing up crates of weapons and ammunition.

"I want everyone who participated in any of the War Games ops we ran with the Protegan military, and anyone else we can spare," Sheppard said as he helped pack up one of the portable railguns.

"Yes, sir." Major Lorne immediately got on radio, calling all the military teams currently on base apart from the security officers.

"Tell them to rally in the Jumper Bay," John called back to the Major as he finished packing the railgun, and two marines started wheeling it out to the Gate Room. "And get a couple more teams here to help bring the railguns through on foot!"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

While the _Daedalus_ was able to beam aboard weapons and supplies and depart immediately, it took a few hours for Sheppard and Lorne to recall all off-world personnel, gather the combat engineers, and marshal their forces. They ended up with twenty portable railguns, with the _Daedalus_ transporting an additional ten, and eight Puddlejumpers, as well as every marine and airman on base.

Rodney was pale but determined as he took the co-pilot seat in Jumper One. John bit his lip as he watched the physicist fiddle nervously with his vest pockets, checking and double-checking his gear, but refrained from pointing out, again, that McKay didn't have to come.

Teyla, sitting behind Rodney, slid the cock on her P90, engaging the first round, while Ronon set his blaster to kill. The team was ready.

Glancing back to confirm the marines in the rear compartment were settled, Sheppard commed the control room. "Jumper One is ready."

_"Jumper Two is ready,"_ Lorne radioed.

_"Jumper Three is ready."_ The jumpers sounded off consecutively, then Chuck responded.

_"Gate Room floor is clear. Jumper One, you have a go."_

McKay dialled the gate and sent through their IDC for Protegat's Gate Control. When the GDO beeped back confirmation the Protegan Iris had been opened, Sheppard piloted the jumper down through the open Gate Room roof, and through the Stargate.

_AN: _As you may have guessed, this is the Big One I've been working on for the last four years. It's taken me far longer than I thought it would and went further than I anticipated, and I hope you all enjoy the end product.


	3. Fireteam Kator

Overseeing the deployment of two portable railguns at Orbital Defence Cannon Four from the top of the wall-like ring where his jumper was parked, Sheppard was only paying mild attention to the constant chatter on the radio from High Command.

A dedicated channel had been set up, broadcasting regular updates on the incoming wraith ships and the state of Protegat's preparation, as well as the inquisition to locate the wraith worshipers. All of Sheppard's officers had been given Protegan comm units so they could monitor that channel, and still use their own radios to organise their forces.

Sheppard fiddled with that comm device, attached to his Atlantis uniform's collar, turning the volume down as he tried to hear what Lieutenant Davies shouted over the noise of the drills locking the turrets in place.

"What?" the Colonel yelled, craning his neck to look up at the cannon's balcony.

Davies cupped his hands over his mouth. "The Officer is raising questions of mobility! He's concerned the south side won't be covered!"

"The _Daedalus_ is en route with an additional ten turrets! We'll add a third railgun to each platform once they arrive!"

"Understood, sir!" Davies turned to the white-uniformed Protegan Officer, explaining with hand gestures as his men kept drilling.

Running through the preparations in his mind, Sheppard couldn't help but feel a trill of fear. A lot was riding on the coming battle. John could only hope that the Wraith continued to exhibit territorial behaviour, and hadn't shared the location of Protegat with other Hives. His brain kept drawing parallels to the siege of Atlantis- sending re-enforcements on foot through the gate with the _Daedalus_ just days behind them, a city in lock-down, and a lot of lives on the line.

Remembering how that siege had ended, John prayed they did not have to resort to such drastic measures here. Protegat had no shield, and so there was no way to cloak the city either.

John's radio activated, drawing him out of reflection.

_"Colonel Sheppard, this is Consulate Pacem, please respond."_ While not strictly a member of the Protegan military, Atheon had continued to be the liaison between the Lanteans and his people.

Keying his headset, John responded. "Sheppard here."

_"The Justicer requests you and your team's presence at High Command. A situation has arisen."_

"Alright," Sheppard said, "we'll be there inside of five minutes."

_"Thank-you. Consulate Pacem out."_

John hailed the rest of AR-1 over the radio, telling them to meet him at the jumper. He then let Lieutenant Davies know where they were going.

Once he and his team were settled in the jumper, it was a short trip back to High Command, on a direct flight path plotted by Sky Fleet. The Ancient ship was always registered as 'friendly' by the Ancestral Protegan City.

On arrival, they were greeted in person by Atheon, who seemed pre-occupied, focused on his wrist-mounted data pad. He had made an addition to his Ambassadorial uniform; a Protegan pistol strapped in its holster at his thigh, an appropriate statement on the dire situation his homeworld was in.

"So get this..." Atheon said irritably, swiping away at his pad. "Right now, the Ambassadorial Corps should be helping the military sort through the... what do you call it? Paperwork? But instead we are stuck in our usual role because one faction of diplomats is trying to challenge the enactment of the Comminatio Protocol. True, technically the elected Democratas are the only ones that can declare an emergency planetary directive. Commander Tylo _should_ have waited for their decision, but they both have since backed the protocol. These tarsats would have us delay defence initiatives so that they can bring the full Diplomatic Corps to council for a vote."

"Bureaucrats are the worst," John said sympathetically.

Shaking his head, the Consulate led them swiftly to Justicer Xerath's control room, high up in the tower that housed High Command.

Waiting for AR-1 in the situation room, Justicer Xerath was accompanied not only by her standard detachment of security personnel and advisory officers, but a six-man Protegan fireteam.

Standing in a casual semi-circle facing the Justicer, these soldiers wore the standard on-base uniform, which comprised of a black, armour-padded undersuit that covered from the neck, right down to their booted feet, the tips of their fingers and their heads the only things exposed. Over this they wore white trousers with a black stripe down the outer sides, cinched around their hips with a black belt. Their rank was inscribed on the padding over their left biceps, and they all wore what looked like a singular dogtag at a cursory glance, but, as John knew, a closer look would reveal the data crystal embedded in the metal- their version of ID/clearance cards.

As Atheon announced Sheppard and his team's arrival, the Protegan fireteam turned to watch the approaching Lanteans with appraising expressions.

"Colonel Sheppard, thank-you for your timely response," Xerath said.

Atheon gave a Protegan salute, closing his left fist over the right side of his chest, then exited the room, already swiping away on his wrist-mounted screen.

"What do you need?" John asked. They didn't exactly have time to waste on pleasantries at the moment.

The Justicer nodded, appearing to appreciate his direct attitude. "One of our outlying power generators has gone dark. We can't raise the guards on radio, and, when we sent a team in via Avem to investigate, we lost contact with them before they touched down on the ground. It is believed they were shot down."

Sheppard hummed an affirmation. "You need to know what's going on, but you can't keep sending teams in, not knowing what's happened to the ones you sent in before, and the jumpers are the only birds with cloaking."

"Precisely," Xerath moved to an Ancient terminal that was all screen, like the ones the Ancients had used to communicate as 'the Oracle' during their civilisation experiments. "I am proposing a joint operation. You and Fireteam Kator will fly to the station in your Puddlejumper, neutralise any hostiles in the area, and bring the station back online."

Sheppard mused over this for a second, then clicked his radio. "Major Lorne, come in."

There was a pause, then the Major responded, the sound of machinery rattling out of the radio's speaker. _"Major Lorne here."_

"How are things going on your end?"

_"We've almost finished setting up the last of the railguns, sir."_

John nodded to himself. "Good work. Listen, Justicer Xerath needs my team's help with an op, so once the guns are in place I need you to get in touch with Commander Tylo and co-ordinate with Sky Fleet to get some jumpers in the air. Just ask him where the jumpers' drones will be needed most. If we're not back by then, talk to Atheon and see who you need to work with to co-ordinate ground forces."

A note of concern crept into the Major's voice then. _"Any idea how long this op might take, sir?"_

"No, but we're about to be briefed. I'll let you know as soon as I get one." That taken care of, Sheppard looked up expectantly at the Justicer.

Xerath pulled up a display on the large screen, and both AR-1 and Fireteam Kator moved closer to get a better view. The Justicer pointed out the power station on a map of the city Protegat, and the outlying lands that were occupied largely by agricultural facilities and military training bases. She outlined the best flight path, suggested several landing points in the forest near the station, and the best angle for a stealthy ground approach. She then listed off all the locations of emergency caches that held everything from food and medical supplies to weapons and radio equipment.

Wrapping up the mission briefing, Xerath keyed in a code on the console. "Fireteam Kator, you have been cleared for unrestricted access to the station as well as surrounding emergency caches. You also have the authority to make your own decision how best to deal with whatever has caused the site to go offline in the event that it has become a communications dark zone. We _think_ it could be the Insurgency, but if it's not..."

No one needed her to finish that sentence. It was a disturbing truth that there were wraith worshipers on Protegat, and with their masters on the way, it only made sense that the sycophants would want to make it as easy as possible for the Wraith to cull this world.

"We'll take care of it," the Colonel assured her.

"Atlantis Reconnaissance One, Fireteam Kator, you have a go." Justicer Xerath saluted in the Protegan manner, and Fireteam Kator immediately returned the salute.

"Fireteam Kator, tac up." The woman John took to be the team leader engaged him in conversation as the two teams filed out of the room.

"Cognitio Officer Taradeth Kancilla, Veritad Protegan Histories, Ancestral Histories, Advanced Tactics, Defensive Weapons, team leader of Fireteam Kator." The woman had henna skin, dark brown eyes, and short, spiky hair dyed a bright lilac colour. She was built like a tank, just shorter than Ronon, with broad shoulders, wide hips, and large thighs.

She pointed out one of her teammates, who had skin like toffee, brunette hair worn in a plaited bun, and eyes like gold. She had hardly any curves, with a barrel chest, and stood just a little taller than her leader. "That's Cognitio Soldier Ataera Tarcellad, Veritad Protegan Histories, Ancestral Histories, Specialised Warfare."

The Officer's finger roamed, now pointing out a tiny green-eyed red-head that was shorter than Teyla, wearing her bright orange hair in a pixie cut, who somehow reminded Sheppard of Tinkerbell, with her pale skin and curves. "That's our engineer, Cognitio Soldier Avaria Elderera, Veritad Protegan Histories, Ancestral Histories, Weapons Development, Technologies Development, Practical Engineering."

The moving finger then pointed out the fourth member of its owner's team. "Cognitio Soldier Sarong Nerrede, Veritad Protegan Histories, Ancestral Histories, Perceptive Sciences, Aerodynamics. He's our sniper." Sarong had a short crop of black hair, grey eyes, and ochre skin, and was about the same size as Teyla. He looked rather skinny compared to the rest of his teammates.

"And finally," Kancilla threw a thumb to her right side, indicating the last two members of her team, walking beside her, "our demolitions experts, Cognitio Soldier Nex Harlil, Veritad Protegan Histories, Ancestral Histories, Explosive Technologies, Orbital Defence..." the tallest of their group, a man with brown hair bleached blonde on top of his almost-a-buzz-cut, a neat, short chinstrap of a beard, pinkish, heavily freckled skin, and sky blue eyes, leaned around to give a cheery smile. This was a guy proportioned like a movie star.

"... And Cognitio Guardian Vidia Torrad, Veritad Protegan Histories, Ancestral Histories, Explosive Technologies."

"A Guardian, huh?" Sheppard remarked as he observed the wiry, bay-skinned woman. Her dark hair was woven into tight cornrows, and her reddish-brown eyes rose to meet his scrutiny with an unspoken challenge.

"She's new to the team," Kancilla replied, explaining the lower rank.

John nodded. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel-"

The Officer cut him off. "No disrespect, but we know who you are."

"Right."

They came to the door of the small hangar the jumper was parked in.

"We need to tac up, arrival seven minutes." As soon as Officer Kancilla finished speaking, she and Fireteam Kator jogged off in formation.

"Come on, let's get the jumper prepped." Sheppard led his team through the door, making a beeline for his ship.

As John powered up the jumper, Teyla rifled through their ammunition, passing out extra clips and magazines to him and Rodney, while Ronon kept watch, standing in the open rear hatch.

Sheppard quickly filled Major Lorne in, giving an estimate of five hours for this mission. It wasn't necessarily a long trip, but they were anticipating resistance when they arrived.

Fireteam Kator jogged into the hangar in full tac gear just shy of seven minutes later. Over the top of their casual uniform, they now wore vests, shoulder guards, bracers, silver-visored helmets, greaves, knee guards, and tassets, all made of a kevlar-like material, all painted in matte black with white accents. Around their hips they wore black pouches holding their ammo and tactical gear, and Torrad and Harlil, the 'demolitions experts' had cylindrical explosives in the belt around their waists. While most of them wore side-arms on their thighs and carried large assault rifles nothing like the ornate flintlocks carried by the honour guards the Lanteans had met previously, Nerrede carried the longest sniper rifle Sheppard had ever seen, and kept a bandoleer of high-calibre sniper rounds clipped to either of his bracers.

As they came to a stop outside the jumper, standing at attention, John quietly observed how de-humanising the reflective visors were. With their individually styled hair, each member of the team had had personality, but once the helmets went on, they were like limbs of the same entity.

McKay turned in the co-pilot seat to look at the team too, and let out a snicker. Obviously, it was simply hilarious that short, little Nerrede's sniper was taller than him. John just hoped Rodney refrained from making any unprofessional remarks.

"Colonel Sheppard, sir, fireteam Kator reporting for duty." Officer Kancilla called out.

"Permission to come aboard granted, and let's not stand too much on ceremony, Officer." Sheppard waved them forward. "We're equals on this mission, alright?"

Kancilla shrugged. "I can live with that." She and her team moved into the jumper, settling quickly onto the benches in the rear compartment.

Ronon stalked into the front end of the ship, taking a seat behind Sheppard, Teyla sitting behind Rodney.

"Alright, everyone good?" John called over his shoulder.

Kancilla replied, "all secure back here."

"Good." Sheppard keyed his radio and closed the rear hatch. "Sky Fleet Command, this is Jumper One, requesting clearance for High Command take-off."

_"Jumper One, please log planned flight path."_ The reply was near-autonomous.

The Colonel sent the requested data, and waited.

_"Flight path cleared, prioritisation granted as per Comminatio Protocol. Safe flight, Colonel."_

"Thanks. Jumper One, out." Sheppard flicked the radio back to standby and powered up the engine pods, activating the cloak before they even left the hangar.

"So nice of them to rout their planes around our flight path," McKay commented.

"Avems, McKay. They're called avems," John reminded him.

"That literally translates to 'birds'."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, and continued to pilot the jumper to their destination.

When they were about three klicks out from the station, Soldier Elderera, who had been monitoring communications on a small data pad, looked up. "We just lost our line to High Command."

"Alright," Officer Kancilla said. "Gag confirmed. Command will not be keeping us company on this one."

"Acknowledged," her team responded.

"I'm picking up a large heat signature just up ahead," Rodney said, fiddling with the co-pilot controls.

Sheppard aimed the jumper senses toward a pillar of black smoke. "I'm gonna guess it's where that smoke is coming from."

The HUD showed explosives residue, and isolated the burning object from the choking shroud.

"Damn. That's an avem."

At Sheppard's curse, Kancilla made her way to the cockpit, holding onto the back of Sheppard's chair seemingly out of habit as she observed the data from the jumper. "Could be the missing fireteam. Let's check it out."


	4. Blood Trail--Plans

Getting first boots on the ground was always the most nerve-racking part of any mission, especially if you're essentially flying blind into a probable hostile situation. Sheppard landed five hundred metres south-west of the downed avem, in a small clearing amongst dry, shrubby pine forest.

As he stood up, John pointed McKay over to pilot seat. "Local comms are still working, so I want you in the air McKay, keeping an eye on lifesigns in the area. Let us know if anyone tries to flank us while we're investigating."

"How steady can you keep this bird?" Kancilla asked as Rodney swapped seats.

Rodney hesitated. "Umm."

"'Cause I'd sure feel a lot better if Nerrede could nest up here," Kancilla pressed.

"'Nest'?"

"Protegan military slang. She wants to have Nerrede cover our six from a sniper position in the ship," Sheppard answered in an undertone.

"Oh, I, y'know, I, um..."

"It won't be a problem," John supplied for the stuttering physicist, giving him a clap on the shoulder.

"Right, not a problem at all." McKay gave a small nervous laugh as he latched onto the pilot controls.

Nodding encouragement at Rodney, the Colonel then double-checked his P90, and indicated fireteam Kator should move out- there was no way he could get through to be the first one to touch dirt.

As Kator filed out, Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla followed, stepping around Nerrede, who had settled on the floor, legs lying over the open rear hatch, with the butt of his ultra-long sniper braced against his shoulder.

Rodney fired up the drive pods, and they felt more than saw the jumper take off slowly, cloaked and thus undetectable.

"Kator, spread out and approach crash site with caution," Officer Kancilla ordered, backing up the command with hand signals. "Do you want point, Colonel?"

Sheppard took her up on her offer. "Ronon, Teyla, you've got our six."

The Pegasus natives nodded, and Sheppard led the group west, taking a circular route to the tilled dirt field the avem had crashed in, leaving a shallow furrow in the hard-packed earth.

Most of the actual flames had died down. With the readily combustable fuel having been consumed, the fire was working on a slower burn through patchy grass, and the remnants of the non-metal innards of the aircraft.

First checking the area was secure, and with no contrary word from Rodney, Sheppard called fireteam Kator up, and Elderera reached behind her to the large backpack attached to her vest, pulling out an Ancient scanner.

"Protegan weaponry brought it down," the engineer said as she combed the scanner over the wreckage.

"So it definitely wasn't an accident?" Kancilla clarified.

"You can be sure of that. This is AA damage, probably something small, hand-held." Elderera shrugged. "Whatever it was, they didn't see it coming- the trajectory of the crash shows they were at standard cruise speed. They didn't know they'd been engaged."

"But they didn't die in the impact?" Sheppard asked, noting the lack of bodies.

The Soldier's silver visor turned to face him. "Well, the missing team isn't here. That's about as much as I can tell you- machines are my area."

John frowned. "Ronon, you got anything?"

The former Runner glanced across from his position on the left side of the field. "Tracks leading back into the forest."

Kancilla nodded appreciatively. "Pull anything you can from the avem's data bank and we'll move out."

Elderera packed away her scanner, then kicked aside enough rubble to access the cockpit. Cursing as she hauled herself up inside the still-flickering controls, the tiny soldier extracted a couple of chipped and cracked data crystals by dent of much banging and even more cursing. Finally, she extricated herself, and John couldn't help but wonder how much easier it would have been for one of the taller team members, who could actually reach the cockpit, to recover the crystals.

Crossing the field to meet up with Ronon, Sheppard checked with McKay for any lifesigns other than their own, but they were still in the clear. John hoped that wasn't a bad thing.

"Ronon, you're on point," John said, and he, Teyla, and fireteam Kator automatically fell in behind the Satedan Specialist.

The Colonel was the first to admit he was no match for Ronon when it came to tracking, which is why he found it alarming how easy it was to follow the trail left by the missing soldiers. Clearly they had fled through the trees and scrub at speed, and the regular spatters of blood made it clear they had had at least one injury.

"Judging from their bearing, I'd theorise they were headed for an emergency cache," Kancilla said quietly. "We're just a few hundred metres out from the nearest cache, in exactly this direction."

The Officer's hypothesis seemed solid, as the trail did not veer from their original heading, aside from winding around trees and denser shrubs.

Suddenly, Ronon's fist came up, signalling a halt to the procession, then signalling everyone down. John was glad that the Protegan military's hand signals were pretty much the same as Earth's, as all of Kator responded to the command immediately. Ronon signalled John and Kancilla to crawl up, and, lying prone along the dirty, dry, pine-needle strewn forest floor, the two team leaders peered from the crest of a small rise, down into a natural glen.

During the wetter seasons, it was obvious that this would be a strong, coursing stream, but at that moment it was barely a creek. In a small, man-made shelf in the cliff on the other side sat an emergency cache, supplies piled on the rocks around it, looking like it had been hastily rummaged through. A smell like gunpowder hung in the air, with spent bullet casings scattered in the cracks between the jagged rocks. Disturbingly, slowly trickling into the creek to be washed away, dull red blood ran sluggishly down the cliff.

"Looks like they got caught in a firefight down there," Kancilla said in a subdued tone.

Without a word, Ronon pushed himself up into a crouch, then dropped down with a soft splash into the glen.

Lifting her weapon up to scan the rim of the shallow creek, Kancilla kept a sharp watch on their surroundings while the Satedan took a closer look at the mostly-dry bloodstains. "This happened two hours ago," he announced, then inspected the ground above the rock line. "They retreated through this way."

Sheppard signalled Teyla and fireteam Kator to join them, and they resumed their pursuit.

"I can see their attackers' tracks now," Ronon said quietly. "They followed them directly. One of the soldiers was being carried at this point."

John cursed internally at this revelation. The chances of them finding the missing team alive were rapidly dwindling.

They came across more farmland, following the bloody tracks on a south-east heading, until they led into a concrete-and-tin outbuilding.

_"I'm still not picking up any additional life signs,"_ Rodney's subduing message came over their radios.

"Why would the owner of this farm not notice a gun fight on their property?" Teyla asked, nodding at the casings that were scattered around the door.

"Comminatio Protocol," Kancilla answered. "All the outlands have been evacuated. There's not supposed to be any civilians outside the city."

Sheppard faced the door as Ronon got ready to open it. Tarcellad and Harlil took up their six, rifles scanning the horizon, and everyone else focused on the building as the Satedan yanked the sliding door open.

The coppery smell of blood greeted them from the dark room. Quickly switching on the lights on their weapons, they found the missing fireteam, far too late to help them.

"Damn it!" Kancilla exclaimed.

"That ain't pretty," Torrad commented. Sheppard did a double-take at her callous tone, then registered the shocked set of her mouth.

Elderera moved forward slowly, panning her light across the bodies. "It looks like they were interrogated."

Biting her lip with anger, Officer Kancilla visibly simmered with rage for a moment before locking it down. "We found the missing team." She visited each fallen soldier, closing their eyes. "Elderera, drop a recovery beacon. Once we break the gag, Command can attend to their burial rites."

The engineer nodded. "Fireteam Idrail, death in service." She pulled a small, metal device from one of her belt pouches, flicked a tiny switch on it, then tossed it among the deceased.

"Colonel, I think it's time we got back to the main mission objective," Kancilla said as she turned around, and strode outside into the sunlight without a backwards glance.

Recognising her need to move on, Sheppard refrained from commenting, knowing any words of consolation he could offer would sound hollow and condescending. Instead, he keyed his radio. "Rodney, come pick us up."

* * *

A breeze kicked up, the only suggestion of passage as McKay eased the jumper down, landing near the outbuilding. As the grass appeared to mysteriously flatten under some great weight, Nerrede leaned outside of the cloaking field, his head and shoulders seeming to be floating in the air.

Sheppard headed straight through to the cockpit, resuming pilot's seat as Rodney switched back over to co-pilot. While Teyla and Ronon quietly took their seats, laughter abruptly broke out through fireteam Kator, who had sat down on the back benches and taken their helmets off. Before John could ask what was so funny, Kancilla called out from the rear compartment.

"Is it true you fly like a Cashukk, Doctor McKay?"

Rodney bristled at the obvious insult. "I might not be a trained pilot like the Colonel, but I have a firmer grasp on flying Puddlejumpers than anyone on your team, Officer."

"Nerrede says he almost fell out seven times in the first ten minutes." Kancilla retorted as John guided the jumper back into the air, heading for the power station.

"Oh, really?" Rodney spun his chair to face the still-chuckling fireteam. "Then why didn't Nerrede complain, or even call out a warning? Hmmmm?"

John turned back to see the Protegan soldiers cast confused glances amongst themselves. Nerrede shrugged.

Finally, Kancilla answered. "Nerrede's mute. Didn't you see the handicap marker on his rank patch?"

"What handicap marker?"

"Well, rank patches are normally white. Nerrede's patches are red, signifying he's mute." Kancilla paused, watching Nerrede as he flashed through several hand motions. "Yeah, you said it. McKay, Nerrede says he was tempted to shoot you in the leg, just to see if you'd notice. He says for a physicist you're exceptionally lacking in the perceptive sciences."

Pulling a face, Rodney turned back to the HUD. "Well you can tell Nerrede-"

"He's mute, not deaf. Tell him yourself." Kancilla fell silent, before another bout of laughter broke through Kator, and the Officer could _just_ be heard hissing, "I'm not going to tell him that. These guys are honoured allies, not street-fighting slags."

While John was now doing his best to shut out the sparring, both verbal and non-verbal, between Nerrede and McKay, the sniper must have said something more in Protegan sign language, because the fireteam went for round three in snickering and giggling amongst themselves.

As Rodney opened his mouth to retaliate, John cut him off. "Why don't you help me keep an eye on the sensor readings, McKay? I don't want to miss something and then have bad guys on all sides."

McKay looked for a moment as though he was going to argue, but then swallowed whatever excuses he had cooked up and focused on the co-pilot controls.

"Thank-you." Sheppard shook his head. He understood the need to blow off some steam when a mission goes that sour, but he hardly thought this was the time for it. He had to remind himself that most Protegan soldiers had never seen real battle before, that that was why Kator were acting so green.

He could feel the atmosphere onboard the jumper tighten as the fireteam re-focused, and felt his own gut clench in response. With the death of fireteam Idrail, it was pretty much guaranteed they would encounter hostiles at the station. He would have to make sure both his team and Kator were never put in a position to be ambushed, the way the Protegan soldiers had been. For all his talk about being equals with Officer Kancilla, John held himself responsible and accountable for every life aboard his jumper.

As they flew over more of the dry pine forest, the power station came up over the horizon.

It was a sprawling mix of concrete and pre-fab buildings, situated in the middle of the forest, surrounded by a grid of fence posts that emitted an electric field, mostly for the purpose of keeping wildlife out. A dry river bed ran north-bound on the east side of the station, with a dam bridging the steep channel. Most of the structures were single-story, but offset to the west was a circular, narrow, four-story building; the communications tower. Multiple gun emplacements, currently unmanned and dormant, sat on the flat roofs of the squat constructs. Sitting in the centre of the complex was a triangular landing platform large enough to accommodate three Avems, or four Puddlejumpers.

Once again, Officer Kancilla moved to the front of the jumper, gazing out the viewport with a contemplative expression. "If I was treacherous scum, where would I place a radio gag?"

"Probably in the comm tower," Sheppard answered.

Kancilla shrugged. "Probably."

"Alright," Sheppard said as he pulled the jumper up and around, flying the circumference of the station before heading to their chosen LZ. "We picked up twenty-three life signs inside the station, so it looks like we're going two-to-one against these guys. This could take a while, so anyone who might need to eat in the next few hours-"

"Why are you looking at me?" McKay asked indignantly.

"I'm not, I'm flying the jumper for crying out loud."

"You didn't have to look, your tone of voice implied-"

"Yes!" John cut over the physicist. "We all know you're hypoglycaemic, so I was subtly suggesting you load up now, because I doubt we'll have time for snack breaks."

"Oh, well, okay." Sounding slightly mollified, McKay proceeded to noisily unwrap a power bar, eating it in under a minute.

"Wait," Rodney said as he tucked the empty wrapper in his vest pocket. "Scattered life signs throughout the forest. Could be local fauna. Atheon and I found, when we were fixing the city's main scanner array, that some of their larger mammals are indistinguishable from human life signs."

"Or it could be more hostile forces on perimeter duty," John disagreed. "We can't assume they aren't organised."

Sheppard carefully eased the jumper into a tiny clearing amongst the trees, just under a kilometre north-west of the station.

"Okay, to revise our mission goals, our primary objective is to bring the station back online and neutralise all hostiles." Kancilla checked her rifle, sliding the ammo clip out then locking it back in. "Secondary objectives are to bring down the gag and rescue any of the surviving crew that were stationed here, both military and civilian. If an opportunity presents itself to capture one of these hostiles you have permission to subdue them but _only_ if you know you can do this without endangering yourself, your teammates, or the primary objective, got it?"

Her troops responded as one. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Alright," the Officer turned to John and his team. "With what we've just seen of their current deployment, what would you recommend as our best point of infiltration?"

Sheppard had already been considering this. "The fence line comes in closest near the comm tower, and if we stay behind it, we'll be out of sight from the rooftop turrets. From there, we could sneak into the tower, hide some C4 on whatever's causing the dark zone, and move on south-east through the maintenance crew quarters, straight to the vehicle depot at the south end of the station. Once we've cleared the depot, we'll sweep through the barracks, mess, and armoury. After that, we'd only have maintenance and power storage to clear, which is where Elderera and McKay need to be to get the station operational again."

Kancilla nodded. "I like it, but, I feel like if we go to the comms first, we should take out the gag while we're there."

"I can guarantee they'll notice the moment the dark zone drops," Sheppard contradicted her. "But, if we stick a charge on it, we can deal with it once the station is clear, or, if we get in a tight spot and need a distraction, a little bit of fireworks could mean the difference between success and failure."

"High Command wants working comms here," Elderera commented, "and I don't do bits and pieces."

They stood in silence in the cloaked jumper for a minute, before Rodney clicked his fingers. "You guys have localised EMP devices, right?"

Soldier Elderera paused, her lips miming 'EMP' before she seemed to get it. "Light-outs, yeah."

"Right, I couldn't remember what you call them," McKay turned to John. "So they're basically specialised grenades that can take out any electricity-based technology, minus Ancient tech because it works on an entirely different level than anything on Earth or made by Protegans. Give me two of them, a detonator, and three minutes to see if I can rig a remote-detonation EMP."

"Won't that take out half the station with it?" Sheppard asked with concern.

"Only temporarily," McKay said dismissively. "It'll take me, what, half an hour to get everything working again?"

Elderera shook her head. "The emergency generators are shielded from light-outs. As long as they're offline when we detonate, they should be fine. Bringing the station back online should take less than ten minutes, as far as a forced short-circuit goes."

"Eh, there you have it," Rodney said as he accepted two silver metal devices from the engineer, about the same size and shape as a tennis ball. The physicist then unceremoniously yanked open John's vest pocket, going straight for his remote detonator, as well as an actual detonator device.

"Jeez Rodney, buy me a drink first." John couldn't resist the comment, making fireteam Kator chuckle and Teyla roll her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Kancilla re-captured her team's attention. "Once we've cleared the tower, I want Nerrede and Tarcellad on the roof. Nerrede can keep eyes on our surroundings. Tarcellad, you'll be watching Nerrede's back, and passing on any updates on hostile activity."

The tall soldier and short sniper both nodded their understanding.

Kancilla continued. "We want to remain undetected for as long as possible, so we'll wait until sundown in twenty minutes. Use muzzle suppressors where ever you have to shoot, but if you can make a knife-kill, go for it."

As Kator added their 'muzzle suppressors', which were essentially silencers, to their rifles, John slid his way through the crowded rear compartment, pulled down two small cases from the hanging storage nets, and manoeuvred back to the cockpit with them. Opening the first case, he handed out silencers for Rodney, Teyla, and his P90s. From the second case, he distributed night-vision goggles to AR-1. The Protegans' helmets' visors had night-vision built-in.

McKay finished fiddling with the grenades, having wired the light-outs and detonator together, and handed the completed improvised EMP bomb over to Sheppard. "I'm ninety-four percent positive that will work," he announced.

"Nicely done." Sheppard tucked the device into his vest, along with the remote for it. "Well, looks like we've got..." John checked his watch, currently set to Protegan time. "About fifteen minutes to kill."

McKay hummed, tapping his foot for a moment. "I'm sure the Colonel knows about them, but what's the deal with the bodysuits?"

The physicist's abrupt question threw the fireteam for a moment, before Harlil gave one of his easy smiles. "Undersuits are a part of our armour."

McKay sighed with attitude. "I know, but you wear them all the time; on base, while training, in classrooms..."

"For one, they're a tarsat to get in and out of," Guardian Torrad answered.

"And for two, they are extremely resilient, able to disperse almost all energy, and reinforced with armour padding that is resistant to small and medium arms fire." Harlil finished.

"Wait, so they can disperse kinetic energy?" Rodney asked.

Torrad shrugged. "In part. They were designed to protect the wearer from Wraith stun blasts, but work against a whole range of threats, including fire. Which is why they're worn pretty much all the time by all members of Protegan military."

"That's incredible," Rodney breathed. "Why don't we have these undersuits, Sheppard?"

"We've been looking at it, but they're about as far from one-size-fits-all as you can get. They have to be completely tailor-made, and the base elements used to make the material are unique to this solar system, as far as we can tell. Bottom line is they'd be extremely expensive to manufacture for the expedition members, and the IOA can't make up their mind on the 'economic value' of them," Sheppard answered bitterly. Glancing out the viewport at the rapidly darkening sky, he pulled out his LSD. "We should head out. If we leave now, it'll be full dark by the time we reach the fence line."

"Agreed. Fireteam Kator, move out." Kancilla led her team out of the jumper, all simultaneously replacing their helmets onto their heads. They hit a small button on the side which activated their night vision, causing the visors to shift from reflective silver to a flat black. AR-1 followed them outside, noting again the alien quality the helmets gave the Protegans.

Once everyone was out, John clicked on the jumper remote, closing the rear hatch. "Ronon, keep an eye out for any signs of patrols in this area," he said as he took point, handing the LSD to Rodney. "McKay, keep an eye on those life signs in the forest."

Snapping his night-vision goggles into place, the dark forest appeared awash with green, and together, the two teams headed into the scrub.


	5. Installation One-Three

They encountered no resistance as they approached the western fence line, though Ronon pointed out tracks suggesting recent patrols. As Elderera crouched down next to one of the posts, the rest of the teams stood watch, guns covering all angles, while the engineer pulled her ID tag off from under her vest and plugged it into a hidden receiving slot. There was a muted affirmative _bleep_ and she reclaimed her tag. The teams then moved past, the electric field de-activated.

Moving as stealthily as humanly possible, they got close eyes on the ground for the first time.

Hidden in the shadow of the comm tower, Sheppard gazed out over the dark station. There were few hostiles visible outside of the buildings, just a handful of disorganised guards hanging around the maintenance block. They were crudely outfitted with partial Protegan tac gear. If they were insurgents, they weren't part of the group that had split off from the Protegan military corps.

It was already a very dark night, with only pale purple, blue, and gold light from the nebula and a faint wash of silver reflecting off the planet's ring. Sheppard doubted his team and Kator would be visible to the guards in the short stretch between where they were now and the tower door. Still, the layout of the station afforded little cover, beyond the interference of the slightly elevated landing pad, and the half-buried emergency bunker.

Turning to the teams, Sheppard signed for them to break up into pairs, and move slowly, low to the ground, inside the tower. Getting a thumbs-up from Kancilla, who reinforced those orders to her team with some slightly varied signals, Sheppard tapped Teyla on the shoulder, letting her know he was her buddy. The Athosian nodded, and the two set out in a low crouch, moving slowly and methodically, less likely to attract attention than a mad sprint.

Once they were inside, they secured the immediate area, silently keeping their weapons trained on the stairwell. The moment Ronon and McKay made it across, the full reconnaissance team cleared the second floor together, then the third. At the base of the stairs on the third level, McKay signalled a halt, indicating two targets on the floor above. Sheppard and Ronon took the stairs together, sneaking up behind the unknown hostiles and knocking them clean out with a solid _whack_ over the head. Teyla and Rodney then climbed up the last floor, followed by fireteam Kator.

"Harlil and Torrad are guarding the door," Kancilla said in a low voice.

Sliding his night-vision goggles down to hang around his neck, Sheppard nodded. "Good."

Teyla pulled out a couple of zip-tie cuffs, and Soldier Tarcellad helped her tie up the unconscious hostiles, dragging them off to the side while Ronon kept his blaster trained on them in case they came to.

Elderera headed straight to the comms array, running a quick diagnostic as McKay started scanning the room, searching for whatever device was jamming the long-range comms.

"Thanks, tarsats," Elderera cursed. "In the course of five hours, you managed to completely destroy the operating system, the interface, and the comms alignment. Truly a stupendous achievement."

"How long will it take to get it operational?" Kancilla asked.

The engineer shrugged. "However long it takes to get replacement software up here, there is no way to salvage it."

"I've found the... what do you call it? A gag?" Rodney called from across the room.

Kancilla pulled off her helmet and frowned, looking at the strange, purple device. "Are you sure that's it?"

"Positive." Rodney turned, locking eyes with Sheppard. "It's wraith tech."

There was a beat of silence, in which you could almost hear the collective curse as everyone processed that intel.

"Well, I suppose that answers the question if these guys are wraith worshipers," John muttered. He pulled out McKay's improvised EMP bomb. "Is this still gonna work?"

The physicist scoffed. "Not a chance. Wraith technology is organic, that's not going to do anything now."

"Plan B then?"

"We'd still have the problem of wrecking the comms array."

Sheppard cursed under his breath, before he remembered- "C2."

"What?"

"I have a bit of C2, we could use that instead."

"Why do you have C2?"

"Doctor Kallangur had some, but I didn't think he could be trusted with it, so I confiscated it two days ago. It's still in my tac vest."

"Why did Doctor Kallangur have C2?"

"He's an archaeologist and they use-" Sheppard shook his head. "Let's get back on topic here. Would fifty grams of C2 do the job?"

McKay paused. "Uhh, sure, if I can figure out where the power source is."

"So do it," Sheppard urged him, then turned to Officer Kancilla's dumbfounded expression. "C2 is plastic explosives like C4, but has a much lower yield. On Earth, archaeologists often use it to break into tombs and such without causing undue damage to the architecture and relics. It's good for small, pin-point explosions and won't damage the tower."

At John's rushed explanation, Kancilla's confused expression cleared up. "Sounds good to me."

It took Rodney less than a minute to identify the power source, and Sheppard expertly applied the C2, sticking a detonator into the plasticine explosive.

"Alright, we need to move quickly through the rest of the station, they're bound to notice that their comms guys aren't responding soon." Sheppard pulled his goggles back into position.

With a nod, Tarcellad and Nerrede climbed up a ladder set into the tower wall, headed for the rooftop, where Nerrede's sniper skills could be best utilised.

Kancilla put her helmet back on as Elderera checked her rifle, and they all descended the stairs, meeting up with Torrad and Harlil at the base of the tower.

Stepping cautiously outside, they headed south, checking the three pre-fab buildings that made up the maintenance crew quarters for wraith worshipers. Finding them empty, they moved on east to the vehicle depot, where they silently knocked out a further three worshipers who had been messing around with the engines of the jeep-like vehicles, the terra vagari. John almost laughed at the deep, disgusted frown visible on the bottom half of Elderera's face.

Once the worshipers in the depot were securely bound with more zip-ties, Sheppard and Kancilla led their teams further east, using the water tanks on the outskirts of the station as cover while they got in position near the barracks, mess, and armoury. Here, they found the first signs of a firefight between the attacking wraith worshipers and the defending station guards. John fervently hoped it was a good thing there were no bodies. He'd already seen enough death for one day.

They moved along the outer side of the pre-fab, shed-like buildings, with the dry riverbed leading to its pointless dam on their right side. Heading north, they paused at the last of the three metal structures, peering at the massive concrete maintenance block. As they monitored the worshipers, their radios activated.

_"Hostiles are getting agitated,"_ Tarcellad's crisp voice informed them.

Sheppard could hear shouting, and gripped his P90 a little tighter.

_"They're sending a group to the comms tower. Nerrede wants permission to engage."_

Kancilla exchanged a glance with the Colonel, before responding. "Permission granted. Fireteam Kator moving to assist."

The first shots rang out, solid _thunks_ no silencer could truly muffle, as the high-impact sniper rifle spat forth its lethal payload. Sheppard and Kancilla led their teams out at a fast walk, rifles held steady, as they ghosted across the station, catching the worshipers in a flanking manoeuvre while they fired blindly up at the tower. There were eighteen of them, scattered loosely, attempting to take cover behind the bunker and landing platform, but three of their number had already fallen to Nerrede's deadly accuracy.

"You're outmatched, surrender!" John yelled.

The worshipers responded by firing at Sheppard, but they obviously had no clue how to use their stolen weapons as the recoil threw their aim. Sheppard gestured his team and Kator to cover while the worshipers recovered. Their second round of fire was more accurate, but still not good enough to hit the expertly moving soldiers.

Sheppard fired wounding shots, but he knew Kator wasn't being so generous. They took down the few worshipers that were hiding behind the landing pad, Sheppard quickly kicking their weapons away from their bodies; killed or incapacitated, he couldn't tell. With the landing pad as their newly claimed cover, they continued to fire on the worshipers now pinned behind the emergency bunker.

"Surrender!" Sheppard called out again, and again had his offer refused. The wraith worshipers fell back, scurrying into the power storage and maintenance buildings, losing another of their troops to Nerrede's sniper as they ran.

"Let's clear out the vermin!" Kancilla yelled.

"Proceed with caution, they could have just baited a trap," the Colonel said in a clear, carrying voice, trying to calm things down a bit.

Kancilla seemed to check herself, breathing heavily but slowly, letting out a gust of air through her mouth before nodding. "Back in formation!"

Her soldiers lined up, and she indicated Sheppard should take point, clearly acknowledging his greater calm in that moment.

John observed the lights were on inside the buildings. "Night vision off." He pulled his goggles down, his team mirroring while the Protegans hit the switch for their visors. "McKay, behind me, scan for signs of explosives," Sheppard said as he led the way to the building.

Rodney followed orders, Ronon moving to point with Sheppard, while Teyla glued herself to the physicist's side as he kept his eyes on the LSD. In this manner, they moved carefully into the power storage room; a large, high-ceilinged, concrete warehouse, filled with row after row of tank-like constructs, holding the electricity generated by the wind turbines just behind the building.

"Fan out," Sheppard said, backing up the command with hand signals. As they began to cautiously peer around the rows, the room lit up with small arms fire, as the Wraith worshipers re-engaged them. AR-1 and the Protegans returned fire, and the pitched firefight resumed. With their diminished numbers, John didn't expect the severely inexperienced hostiles to hold out much longer.

Suddenly, from behind him, Sheppard heard McKay call out a warning. In the same second, he spotted additional hostiles moving in from the other side of the room, Soldier Harlil directly in their line of fire.

Moving quickly, beyond thought or instinct, Sheppard bolted across the distance between himself and the Protegan Soldier, firing his gun at the newcomers as he pulled Harlil down, shoving him towards cover and ducking after the tall Soldier, before- lucky shot- he was clipped in his right thigh.

Landing solidly on his butt, the Colonel was dragged the rest of the way into cover by Harlil, who then returned fire with a vengeance and called out, "Atlantis leader wounded!"

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the shock, Sheppard gritted his teeth, pushed to his feet, and re-joined the fight as the rest of fireteam Kator, minus Nerrede and Tarcellad, swarmed to his and Harlil's position. Teyla followed them, having been alerted by Harlil's yell, and pulled the Colonel back down, now surrounded protectively by the Protegans.

"Where were you hit?" she asked urgently, having to shout over the loud clatter of the rifles around them.

"It's not that bad!" Sheppard answered, but gestured to the site anyway, knowing none of his team liked to take him at his word anymore.

Teyla pulled out a field bandage as she inspected the hole in his BDUs. "The bullet went clean through," she informed him as she firmly bound the bloody entry and exit wounds with quick, practiced movements.

"Good, are we done here?"

Teyla smiled grimly. "For now."

Sheppard got back to his feet, and nodded at Kancilla, who then ordered her team to spread back out. Making a quick head count, John noted that all the new arrivals had already been taken out of play, the angle they had come in from having afforded them no cover. Of the original force of twenty-three that had held the station, only six remained, yet out of their attacking force of ten, Sheppard was the only one to have taken any hits.

Sheppard figured he might as well give it one more shot. "Surrender, you're outnumbered and outmatched!"

"Never!" a female voice called back. "We are the proud servants of the true rulers of this galaxy-"

She was cut off as Torrad threw a device behind the tank the worshipers were using as shelter, and an almighty _BANG_ went off with a flash of bright light. Silence fell, as no further weapons fire came from the hostiles.

"Yak yak yak yak yak," the Guardian said testily. "Cocky tarsat."

Ronon edged around the tank, blaster held at the ready, then announced, "They're out cold."

"Nice," Sheppard commented.

"Night-night grenade," Torrad said happily, a smile on her lips, "gets them every time."

* * *

There was a decent amount of work to be done, first to secure the station, binding the hands of the wraith worshipers that were still alive, then checking the last building, the emergency bunker. It was there fireteam Kator found the bodies of the maintenance crew and station guards.

Sheppard, sitting on the dirt outside with his pistol pointed at their kneeling prisoners while Teyla tended more thoroughly to his leg wound, watched apprehensively as Officer Kancilla stormed over to where he and Ronon kept watch over the worshipers.

Flanked by Harlil, Elderera, and Torrad, the Protegan Officer pulled her helmet off and tossed it angrily to the ground. "Which one of you is in charge?" she demanded, her voice shattering the quiet night.

A woman spoke. "We are all the servants of the true masters of the galaxy, we walk the path to-" She was cut off as Kancilla gripped her by the throat, pulling her up off the ground as the Officer stood to her full, considerable height.

"I guess it's you then," Kancilla growled, her dark eyebrows pulled down over her brown eyes in fury. "So you can tell me, then, why not only three fireteams but twelve civilians had to be _tortured,_ killed, then tossed aside!"

"Officer," Sheppard said quietly, as the worshiper's face turned purple, unable to utter a sound past the vice-like grip Kancilla had her in, the balls of her feet scrabbling for purchase against the ground.

Kancilla gave no suggestion she had heard him.

"Officer," John said again, this time with more force to his voice, "put the prisoner down."

Kancilla held the worshiper for a prolonged moment, before flexing her fingers and dropping the prisoner, who collapsed in a heap at her feet, gasping for air. "I still need answers," Kancilla said in an even tone, as she drew and cocked her side arm, pointing the barrel in the worshiper's face.

"Getting aggressive with these guys doesn't work. They're fanatics, they aren't thinking along any logical lines," Sheppard said in a low voice, so the prisoners could barely hear him. But Kancilla backed up a bit, listening in keenly. "You've gotta play into their egos, their delusions."

Clearing his throat, Sheppard called out to the mostly-recovered woman. "So, how did you manage to beat the fireteams stationed here?"

The worshiper glared haughtily at Kancilla, then assumed a more arrogant air. "Our masters provided us with great strength and endurance before we arrived on this doomed planet. The natives were no match for us, for we are under the protection of the Great Ones."

"Translation: they were hopped up on enzyme," Sheppard explained in an aside, "which would give them the strength to use your weapons despite the strong recoil. It must've worn off by the time we got here," he mused before addressing the woman again. "If you were under their protection, why was it necessary to... question... the soldiers and crew members?"

"The masters gave us a chance to prove our worthiness, if we cut the city off from its external energy generators, and learned more of the pathetic defences the natives scrambled together." There was manic pride in her eyes as the worshiper confessed to seeking to help the destruction of a culture. "The military ones proved unhelpful, but it did not take long for the engineers to crack."

Glancing at Kancilla and her team, Sheppard realised that this worshiper might want to consider treading carefully. Each Protegan had their fists clenched, their mouths set in rigid lines as they listened to this prisoner brag about torturing their people. John was having a hard time stomaching it himself, even though most of his professional life had dealt with zealots just like her. Still, there was more they had to know. "How many of you made it onto Protegat? How did the Wraith-"

"You dare speak the masters name with your heretical tongue?" a male to the left of the female snapped. Ronon shot him with his blaster, currently set to stun.

"Sheppard has the speaking ball," Ronon said as the male crumpled to the ground.

"Thank-you, Ronon," Sheppard said, trying not to laugh at the Satedan's reference to Earth-culture. "Now, as I was saying, how did the Wraith find out about Protegat?"

The female barely batted an eyelid at her fellow worshiper's incapacitation. "The loyal followers of the Great Ones are vast, and have many eyes and ears throughout the galaxy. It was through us, the righteous ones, that our masters uncovered the secret hiding place of the last of the Lanteans, those who had so futilely destroyed the Ancestral City, in doing so only delaying the inevitable. We were already embedded in the refugee camps, and were so allowed by the graces of our masters to walk into Protegat unchallenged."

"How many?" John pressed.

"It matters not our number. Surely you must realise by now, that this world _belongs_ to the Great Ones."

John sighed quietly. Clearly they would get no more from her on the subject. "There's just one more thing. I can understand, to a point, why you interrogated the station guards. Hell, I even get why you carried on to the engineers. It makes sense, from a tactical standpoint. But there's one thing I don't get. Why interrogate fireteam Idrail?"

Here, a bit of laughter broke out between the prisoners. The female John had been questioning cackled harshly. "Isn't it obvious?" She laughed again. "It was just so much fun!"

Before anyone could do or say anything to stop her, Officer Kancilla struck out fast, slamming her boot down on the worshiper's lower leg, breaking the prisoner's tibia and fibula with dual audible snaps. As the prisoner cried out in agony, Kancilla twisted her boot, causing the pain to flare, and the woman passed out.

Kancilla stood still for a moment, shoulders heaving as she breathed through her anger, then reeled it in. "Fireteam Kator," she said after several tense minutes, "we've got a station to repair." Leaving John, Ronon, and Teyla to watch over the prisoners, Kancilla gestured McKay should join Elderera as they headed back to the comm tower.

"Colonel?" Rodney asked as he left with Kator.

"McKay?"

"Do you want to blow the C2 now, while no one's in the room with it? Because I'd rather not waste time fiddling around with the jammer, trying to disable it when we could easily make it go 'boom'."

Sheppard nodded and pulled out the remote detonator. "Go to hell," he whispered, thinking of the Wraith behind all that had happened on this piece-of-crap mission, then flicked the safety cover off the trigger, and flipped that little switch.

They heard the muted _thump_ in the distance, as the focused, low-yield explosive detonated. McKay gave a quick, worried glance at the retreating form of fireteam Kator's leader, then took after her with a half-hearted jog.

As Kancilla strode across the station grounds, John could just hear her keying the comm device on her neck. "High Command, this is fireteam Kator reporting in from Power Station Installation One-Three, please respond."


	6. The Calm

The response came in across all their radios, Consulate Atheon's voice crisp but urgent on the long-range comms. _"Fireteam Kator, we receive. Atlantis Reconnaissance One must return to High Command immediately."_

Kancilla stopped mid-stride, her head snapping around to exchange an alarmed glance with the Colonel. "Understood, Consulate," she said into her mic. "Fireteam Kator will remain on-station. Officer Kancilla, out."

Sheppard nodded at the Officer, then keyed his own comm unit. "Pacem, it's Sheppard. What's happened?"

_"There was an assault on Sky Fleet Command, under the guise of civilian panic. Long-range sensors are down, we need Doctor McKay's help to get them operational again."_ The Consulate sounded stressed to the extreme.

_So much for the calm before the storm,_ John thought. "Right, we're on our way." Sheppard jumped sloppily to his feet, where Ronon steadied him. "McKay!" John called to the physicist, who, having heard their conversation over the radios, was waiting half-way across the station. "Go get the jumper prepped, we'll be right behind you!"

Guardian Torrad jogged over, taking Sheppard's team's place watching over the prisoners. She gave John, Teyla, and Ronon a reassuring nod as they headed back to the jumper. "Thanks for everything."

"Sorry it wasn't enough," Sheppard said.

The Guardian's lips twitched, but then she smiled. "Get out of here, you're needed elsewhere."

Cursing the throbbing in his thigh, Shepard set out across the station, flanked by Teyla and Ronon. When they finally made it through the scrub and trees to the small clearing where the jumper was parked, the pain had reached new, intense levels.

"Umm, maybe I should fly?" McKay suggested as he watched John with a nervous expression.

Sheppard ignored him. "Teyla? We got any Super Juice?"

"John." The warning tone in Teyla's voice, however, was ignored at one's own peril.

"Teyla, I'm the only one here that can safely follow Sky Fleet's flight paths. There's no margin for error and I can't concentrate with my leg the way it is."

He and Teyla stared at each other, Sheppard on the brink of making it an order, before the Athosian relented.

Teyla opened the jumper's medical kit and pulled out a single-use syringe and needle, loading it with a special drug called Andarin- otherwise known as Super Juice by members of the Stargate Program. Andarin was a potent mix of adrenaline and high-grade cortisol, capable of masking severe pain while simultaneously giving an adrenal kick, meant for getting badly wounded soldiers through heavy fire. Or, in this case, make an injured pilot flight-ready. She pulled John's arm into position, found a vein, and injected the contents of the syringe.

Sheppard huffed out a breath. "That's a kick in the guts." He shook his head, clearing the sudden head rush. "Okay, let's get going." He gave himself a moment longer to adjust to the new chemical presence in his blood, then, ignoring Rodney's disapproving glare, grabbed the jumper controls, carefully easing the ship out of the tight clearing, and set out in the direction of High Command.

Once they reached altitude, he raised Sky Fleet Command on comms, requesting a flight path back to the Protegan city.

* * *

High Command had never been as busy as it was when they touched down in the executive hangar. There was fresh haste in the movements of the Soldiers, Diplomats, and Ambassadors that flocked every which-way through the corridors.

Atheon was just walking into the hangar as AR-1 exited the jumper, his strides on the brink of jogging. "Doctor McKay, we must depart immediately." He gestured at an avem sitting in the hangar, its rotors already starting to warm up.

"Is the situation at Fleet Command under control?" John asked, concerned for Rodney's safety.

"Well and truly," the Consulate assured him. "If you and the rest of your team could make your way to the Justicer's consultation room, she has a few questions for you regarding your recent mission to Power Station Installation One-Three."

Sheppard hesitated a moment, but then conceded. "Okay. Rodney, radio check in when you arrive, and let us know as soon as you figure out how bad the sensor damage is."

"Will do," Rodney replied, then left with Atheon, entering the open cabin crew compartment of the avem and strapping himself in to one of the seats. Atheon rapped his knuckles on the metal door separating the crew compartment from the cockpit, before securing his own seat as the chopper/jet hybrid took off, flying out the still-open hangar doors.

They headed straight for the Justicer's consultation room, where Colonel Carter had first been introduced to the High Council. As they were waiting, McKay made contact to let them know he had made it to Sky Fleet Command without any dramas. It was not long after that Justicer Xerath entered the room, followed closely by Lord Farade and both their guards, as well as a group of officers, ranging in ranks from Soldier to Knight. These subordinates were receiving orders from the Justicer, and running to carry them out, leaving the room in small droves, until it was just Xerath and Farade, their guards spread through the perimeter of the faceted, circular room.

"Colonel, I cannot thank you enough for your assistance getting Installation One-Three back online." Looking harried, Xerath joined Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon at the octagonal table. "I understand you took some fire during the engagement, and would urge you to avail yourself of our medical facilities."

"Thank-you, Justicer," Sheppard said. "I'll get to that the moment we have time. We have more important things to worry about now."

Lord Farade gave the pilot a hard stare. "You are important to the success of Protegat's defence. I should expect you to make time."

Xerath raised a placating hand. "The Colonel is not wrong." Her next words were directed at John. "I need to know everything you do about these wraith worshipers you encountered- what weaponry they were using, how they deployed themselves, what tactical support they had, any potential markers we could identify others by, and what your interrogation revealed."

"So you got fireteam Kator's preliminary report?" Sheppard clarified.

The Justicer nodded. "Visor data is still being processed, but Officer Kancilla gave an emergency update while you were en-route."

Sheppard took a moment to gather his thoughts, then began detailing their mission, starting from when they lost contact with High Command. He had barely started when McKay radioed in with an update on the long-range scanners.

_"Are you ready for the 'how screwed we are' update?"_

Not liking the sound of that, Sheppard responded with trepidation, pulling his Protegan comm unit up. "Go ahead, McKay."

_"In a word, completely. They didn't just damage the data conduits, but the scanners themselves are ruined."_

"So, what, we gate back to Atlantis, grab some replacement parts-"

_"This isn't a matter of a few spare parts; this is an entire array that's been destroyed. Even if we completely pulled out all of Atlantis' scanners and brought them here, by the time we had everything working again the Wraith would be here." _Rodney paused, his voice distant on the comm for a moment as he exchanged a few words with someone in the room with him. _"Right. Atheon wants to talk to the Justicer."_

Xerath activated her collar-mounted comm device. "Go ahead, Consulate."

Atheon's voice was the next they heard. _"Justicer, I believe it is possible we may find what we need to patch the sensors in the Vault."_

The Justicer and Lord's eyes flicked to each other, and they were quiet for several seconds, gazes locked. Finally, Xerath responded. "Understood. You will wait for confirmation that both your and Doctor McKay's clearance have been upgraded to allow you access to the Vault before departing Sky Fleet Command. You will be assigned a minimum escort of two fireteams and a Knight. You will remove no more artefacts than are necessary to complete your repairs, and return directly to Fleet Command. Any deviation from these orders will result in immediate disciplinary action."

_"Yes, ma'am,"_ the Consulate replied. _"Thank-you. Consulate Pacem out."_

Xerath let out a gust of air, then pulled her Life Signs Detector off the straps of her upper right arm, reached under her tunic to pull out the chain her ID chip hung on, and plugged it into the LSD. Xerath then swiped at the screen a few times, before inputting several strings of commands. Next, she keyed her comm unit, quickly switching frequencies to High Command's local network. "Commander Tylo, I need you to organise three fireteams for escort to the Vault, and find a Knight to keep them company. They'll be accompanying Consulate Pacem and Doctor McKay to and from Sky Fleet Command."

The Commander's response was immediate. _"Yes, ma'am."_

The Justicer switched frequencies again. "Consulate, you are now cleared Priority One for the Vault, your escort will be arriving shortly. May you find what you need, Protegat is depending on you." In a surprising moment of vulnerability, Xerath lowered her head, resting her forehead on her hand, elbow propped against the table, before she sucked in a deep breath. Her calm, commanding aura seemed to draw back in around her with the air she inhaled.

Sheppard's heart went out to her, and his respect doubled at the Justicer's ability to hold together when she was literally solely responsible for the protection of an entire planet. He was on the brink of apologising for bringing the Wraith to their doorstep when Xerath began talking again, this time to him and his team.

"To bring you up to speed, the Vault is a closely guarded secret kept by the service corps. It is a repository of all Ancestral technologies. It was once used purely as storage by the Ancestors for spare and replacement parts, and now we maintain it as an archive of their devices we either cannot use or do not understand, along with all the original items kept by the Ancestors. Their most dangerous experimental weapons are locked away there, out of reach of all but the most trusted public servants."

"That's pretty convenient," John said, thinking ruefully of all the times they'd had to scavenge for scrap on Atlantis.

Xerath nodded. "Most of it seems to be broken, but we can hope that what does work may suffice to repair the sensors. For now, however, we must focus on what is actionable."

"Of course," Sheppard agreed, before continuing the debriefing.

* * *

Hours after leaving the Justicer's consultation room, Sheppard was deep in conversation with Major Lorne and Commander Tylo, discussing troop deployment while simultaneously dodging Teyla's insistent badgering to visit one of Protegat's many military hospitals. It was getting harder to concentrate, though, as the last of the Super Juice made its way out of his system, leaving him feeling wrung-out. He knew, however, that he didn't stand a snowflake's chance in hell of sneaking another dose, especially since Ronon had sided with Teyla, and was watching his every move.

The next time he was interrupted was, surprisingly, not by either of the Pegasus natives, but by his fourth teammate.

_"Colonel Sheppard, you there?"_ McKay hailed over their Earth radios.

"Rodney where have you been?" John demanded. "You've been off comms for nearly four hours."

_"Right, sorry about that, but the Vault's security protocols are insane. Do you know, officially, it doesn't exist? It's the one thing not made known to the Protegan public."_

"Then maybe you shouldn't be talking so cavalierly about it on an unsecured channel, Rodney. It seems like a pretty poor way to repay the trust they've shown us," John reprimanded the physicist.

_"Regardless,"_ McKay said dismissively,_ "I think I've got what I need to fix the sensors, and when I say 'fix' I mean rebuild from scrap but you get the idea."_

"ETA?"

_"Two weeks."_

Sheppard cursed. "That's over a week past their expected arrival date!"

McKay's sigh crackled over the radio, _"Which is why I need you to use your special clearance as Atlantis Team Leader to gate back to Atlantis and get Zelenka here. With his and Pacem's help, I might be able to get it done in half that time, but I have to stress the 'might'."_

The Colonel clenched his fists in frustration, before letting out a gusty breath. It wasn't Rodney's fault. They could only work with what they had, and the more time they lost to fretting over what they didn't have, the less chance they had to mount the best possible defence.

"Have Atheon fill in the Justicer. Teyla and I are en-route to Stargate Control," Sheppard replied, nodding at Lorne and Ronon then heading to the jumper, Teyla following him. "I'm going to need her authorisation to dial out as per the Comminatio Protocol."

_"I thought you always had clearance to access the gate?"_

"Not during a planet-wide emergency directive."

The jumper automatically powered up as usual when he entered, quickly taking pilot seat, Teyla sitting next to him in co-pilot.

_"Hmm. Well, Pacem's talking to the Justicer now, so I expect you'll hear from her soon. I'm gonna get started here, let me know when Radek arrives."_

"Right. Stay in radio contact, Rodney, and stick to Atheon's side." Sheppard didn't like the Earth scientist being at a facility that had already been targeted by the wraith worshipers without any of his people to watch over him. But, having seen the Consulate in combat during the joint War Games, John felt confident the Protegan ambassador could be trusted to keep Rodney safe.

A hurried exchange with Sky Fleet Command secured the jumper's short flight path from the Protectorate Facility to Stargate Control, which had been a commercial office building before it was requisitioned by the Council. The stargate sat on a raised dais in the middle of an atrium, 182 stories above the ground, and as such, the massive, clear, reinforced glass windows commanded an impressive view of the city. The atrium ceiling was five stories up, with one wall essentially one large window to the city, the opposite wall covered in smaller windows into the old offices. The ceiling was not the original, and in fact retracted much like that of Atlantis' Gate Room, opening up to a hangar, which allowed the Lanteans to bring Puddlejumpers through the gate.

Standing at a total of 207 stories tall, Stargate Control was the eighth tallest tower in the Protegan city, with High Command topping the list at a whopping 288 stories. Overlooking the Atrium were five more levels of offices, and it was in the admin room in between these offices and the atrium that the control room had been set up. Connecting the control room and the atrium were two large, gently sloping, curved ramps, where anti-infantry turrets had been set up. This was basically the extent of Stargate Control, aside from comfortably appointed waiting rooms for outbound travellers. The rest of the tower was devoted to security, with several floors completely gutted of their previous infrastructure to create multiple hangars. The three bottom floors had been ripped out as well, replaced by a transport terminal connected to the train system to make sure everyone had access to the stargate, even though they had to pass a battery of security checkpoints.

Having parked in the priority hangar- the one above the atrium, Teyla and Sheppard waited in the control room one story up from the gate room itself. They hadn't been there long when they received the green light from High Command, and were allowed to dial out to Atlantis.

After sending their request for Doctor Zelenka to come help with the repairs, Sheppard spent the time it took for Radek to tac up filling Colonel Carter in on what had happened since their arrival.

Once Zelenka was ready to depart, they severed the connection, and the Protegan gate was almost instantly spinning up as Atlantis's incoming wormhole connected. The control room techs received Atlantis's IDC and opened the Iris. Radek walked out of the event horizon, looking a little nervous as he eyed off the atrium guards standing on alert. John tried to jog down the ramp, but his leg soon put an end to that. It was quite a shame, John felt, that this tower was built by the Protegans, and so lacked transporters. The many elevators moved impressively fast, but nothing could top instantaneous teleportation. Not that there were any elevators directly connecting the atrium and the control room.

He could feel Teyla's eyes tracking him as he tried not to limp. Once Zelenka spotted the Colonel, however, he began to head up to John, and they ended up meeting a little past half-way.

Sheppard clapped the Czech on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming, Doc. I promise I'll get you out of here ASAP."

"Don't worry, I'm getting used to life-or-death scenarios," Radek said somewhat ruefully.

"Well," Sheppard said awkwardly, "it's mostly the Protegans who want you gone. Don't get me wrong, they're grateful for the help and all, but the Comminatio Protocol forbids civilian involvement in any defensive capacity. They're feel we're bending the rules enough as it is having McKay around."

"Ah," Zelenka said as they headed up the ramp. "I thought you were just worried for my safety."

"That too," Sheppard admitted. The two Earthlings met up with Teyla in the control room, and together caught an elevator up to the hangar.

Atidum, the city's AI, tried to prevent Zelenka from accessing the hangar, until Sheppard impatiently swiped his personal ID chip, granted to him by the Justicer after the treaty had been finalised, across the door's sensor several times, just to be sure the AI got the message.

"Think Atidum's getting a little paranoid?" John asked as they settled in the jumper.

Teyla pulled a face, "I have noticed it seems... stressed, if it is possible for a computer program to be stressed."

"Yes, if you think about it, the AI had relatively little to do for centuries, then we come along, fix much of its city," Radek mused. "Now, add all this new activity, maybe programming is spread too thin?"

"I hope not," Sheppard said, then clicked his radio. "Doctor McKay? Doctor Zelenka just arrived, we're about to depart Stargate Control."

_"Good, get here as soon as you can,"_ Rodney responded, sounding distracted.

John swapped radios, muttering under his breath. "Yeah, we'll see what Sky Fleet says about that."

His comm to flight command at Sky Fleet took a while to get through, as they were still recovering from the Wraith worshipers' attack, but he finally got a priority one flight path and was able to take off.

When they touched down at Sky Fleet Command, Sheppard took a moment to look around at the destruction. All the fires had been put out, but there were still smouldering wrecks of military and Ancient equipment. A Guardian waved at them to catch their attention, before jogging over to the Lanteans to inform them that he was to show them to Consulate Pacem and Doctor McKay.

The young soldier led them through a quagmire of control towers and enclosed connecting bridges, all with sporadic lighting, until they ended up on the top floor of the tallest of Sky Fleet's towers; the original Ancient spire that had once been a Puddlejumper bay. Predictably, Rodney was barely visible, half-buried in Ancient technology, with only his legs sticking out of a messed-up console. Atheon stood a few feet away, leaning across another console, calling out technical jargon to the physicist.

"Guardian Varox, escorting Atlantis Team Leader Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, Atlantis Team Member Ms Emmagen, and Atlantis Science Doctor Zelenka," the Guardian announced as they entered the semi-dark room.

Consulate Pacem's head snapped up, and he straightened up, saluting the Guardian. "Thank-you, Guardian. Return to your fireteam."

As Varox returned the salute and turned to leave, Atheon strode forward. "Doctor Zelenka, I cannot express Protegat's gratitude for your aide," the Consulate handed Radek a temporary ID card. "As you can see, the power source was hit with an electro-magnetic device, and since we rely mostly on our own technology to interface with the Ancestral infrastructure, the surge it caused has played havoc with the control crystals. Rodney says we need to get these consoles working again before we fix the scanner array."

Zelenka nodded. "We cannot get any proper reading on the array without the critical systems monitor up and running. Without these, we do not know what is broken." The two headed over to McKay. "Rodney is right. Uhh, Atheon, you know where Rodney left his-?"

Pacem scooped McKay's pc tablet off the floor. "Is this what you need Radek?" he asked as he offered the large black device to the scientist.

"Yes, thank-you." Zelenka powered up the tablet, quickly reading through Rodney's diagnostics so far.

Sliding out from under the console, Rodney scrabbled through a messy pile of crystals, sparing a glance for Sheppard and Teyla. "You should go to the hospital, Sheppard, you look like crap."

"I thought I should stick around, in case you need help activating-"

"We're gonna be here for days before we'll be ready to start activating things," McKay cut over him. "Seriously, there's no point in you guys hanging around, go take care of yourself Colonel."

Feeling it might be time to admit defeat, Sheppard sighed. "Fine, but I want hourly radio contact, even if it's only to say you're alive. And find some time to get some shut-eye, we've been up for..." he checked his watch, making a quick calculation, "damn, 26 hours."

"Sure, now go." The physicist wriggled back under the console, effectively dismissing the pilot. _And I thought I was supposed to be the one in charge here,_ Sheppard thought, as Teyla marshalled him back to the jumper.

Sitting heavily, Sheppard let out a gust of breath as he grabbed the little ship's controls. "Next stop, Zolaria Defence Hospital."


	7. Patch Job

Sheppard sat on crisp, white sheets, in a private room at Zolaria, one of Protegat's 13 military hospitals. Teyla stood quietly in the corner while the Protegan doctor, a Magister Medicus Barukazar, clad in the now familiar black-on-white service uniform, finished his inspection of the bullet wound in the Colonel's right thigh.

"It's about as clean as any bullet wound can be," Medicus Barukazar said, "but it's obviously going to be a problem while you're needed to help protect the city. Normally, we'd operate to neaten the muscle tissues and expedite healing. Now, I know these aren't normal circumstances, but I would strongly recommend you hand off to your second in command and opt for surgery to ensure a full recovery. However," he continued as John opened his mouth to object, "it is possible for me to perform enough of a patch job to allow you to continue to fulfil your duty for a maximum of ten days, provided you agree to daily check-ins."

Teyla stepped forward, looking concerned. "Colonel, I believe it would be irresponsible for you to continue working with such an injury."

Sheppard shook his head. "I have an obligation to defend the people I put in harm's way. Patch me up."

"There are inherent dangers in opting out of surgery; nerve damage and muscular scarring among them," the Medicus warned.

"John," Teyla said in a strained voice, "this is not your fault."

The Colonel ignored her. "I understand the risks, Medicus. Just get me ready to go."

Teyla's expression was a little too neutral as she announced she would wait in the jumper, walking stiffly out of the room.

"Very well then, Colonel." The Medicus called in two Attendes, and they quickly set to work, first hitting the wound with a type of antiseptic combined with a numbing agent. They followed up with a cryo-preservant, which was used by Protegan doctors to essentially freeze both cellular decay and growth in specific parts of the body. They usually only did this in the field, when they lacked either the equipment or the personnel to treat an injury properly.

Next, they packed in a self-expanding, foamy substance; a synthesised bio-chemical agent that would harden to the consistency of human muscles. Its purpose was to stabilise puncture wounds, acting almost like an internal pressure-bandage, helping to reduce internal bleeding and provide support for the body tissues surrounding the puncture. While it was created to be nutrient-rich, providing the body with an immediate supply of material to repair the damage, one had to receive an inoculation as a child, to train the body to use and accept the foam, not attack it like it would any normal foreign object.

Obviously, it was impossible for Sheppard or any of the Lanteans to have had this inoculation, which was one of the reasons why the Medicus had decided to freeze the wound's interior, to prevent an allergic reaction. This way, while it postponed healing, it also prevented decay, progression of potential malign presences, read as infections, and stopped all pain signals from the damaged nerves.

They had Sheppard sit around for about half an hour, to let the bio-chemical set, then let him stand, gingerly testing the leg at first, but swiftly growing confident in the lack of discomfort.

"Just keep in mind, as all signals from your nerves are essentially suspended, you will not notice if you cause further damage," Medicus Barukazar warned the Colonel. "That is why you must return and have the wound inspected each day."

"Got it," John said. "Thanks for the help, Medicus."

After being formally discharged, Sheppard met up with Teyla in the jumper. They were half-way through flying back to the Protectorate Facility in the dark night when they received a request from the Justicer to return to High Command.

It was awkward flying, as Fleet Command had difficulty changing their flight path. Sky Fleet Command had their work cut out for them, juggling civilian transports, ferrying officers and troops every which-way, and managing air patrols. Add in the destruction of three of their towers, and their hands were more than full. Still, Sheppard felt a little annoyed at the random holding patterns he had to keep slipping into, making what would normally be a fifteen-minute flight into a twenty-eight-minute aerial rodeo.

When they finally made it to High Command, they found Major Lorne and Commander Tylo waiting for them in the executive hangar.

"Major?" John asked, "I thought you were still at the Protectorate Facility?"

"Commander Tylo and I received orders to report back to High Command, sir." Lorne glanced at the Commander, who gestured they should all follow him.

As Evan, Teyla, and John did so, the Colonel continued questioning Lorne. "Have we heard anything from the _Daedalus_ yet?"

"No, sir." Lorne hesitated a moment, before plunging into his own question. "How'd it go with the Protegan docs?"

Sheppard hummed dismissively. "Yeah, great. They patched me up and gave me the green light to resume defence operations."

Teyla disagreed. "You are overselling things, Colonel. They recommended surgery and rest."

"But they also recognised there's more important things going on right now," John insisted.

"Why are you so insistent on throwing yourself in the way of the Wraith? There are others who are just as capable as you are of-"

Sheppard cut Teyla off, rounding on her, forcing a stop in the middle of the corridor. "I made a promise to the Justicer to do everything I can to protect her people and the refugees."

"Then this is nothing more than childish vanity and honour. I thought I knew you to be a better man than this." The bite in Teyla's voice stung John, stirring up anger at the jab.

He raised a pointing finger, then closed his eyes and took a breath. "This is about doing the right thing," he said in a calmer tone, opening his eyes. "I'm not so egotistical as to claim responsibility for the actions of the Wraith, but it was my job to make sure Protegat was kept a secret, and I failed. But, if we can destroy this hive, I can fix it. Protegat can be a safe place again."

Teyla still glared off to the side, but the hard set of her eyebrows eased a little, and Sheppard recognised the Athosian warrior was relenting. Without another word, he spun back around, and they continued on to the Justicer's consultation room.

Both Justicer Xerath and Lord Farade were waiting for them, seated at the octagonal table, talking in low, serious tones. The Protegan leader looked up as their procession walked into the room.

"I apologise for pulling you all back here so abruptly," the Justicer said, "but recent events have made it abundantly clear that the Protegan Service Corps facilities are not as secure as we previously believed."

"Recent events?" Sheppard questioned. "Has something else happened?"

Lord Farade grimaced. "The insurrection decided to strike out while our backs were turned. We never dreamed that they would go so far as to sabotage our defence against the very thing they feared most, but they hit a major communications relay, then stole several transport freighters from a civilian air base."

"That makes no sense," Major Lorne said, "what could they possibly have to gain from this?"

"We believe they could be attempting to run from the oncoming attack, at the cost of the greater population." Xerath's voice was controlled, but her mouth was twisted into a snarl. It was obvious what she thought of the insurrection's actions.

"Latest intel suggests the insurrection considers the threat of the Wraith as Protegat's deserved punishment for siding with Atlantis and opening our city to the refugees of the galaxy," Farade elaborated, looking just as angry as the Justicer.

"They are bigoted fools," Xerath snapped, losing her calm for just a moment, "and all the more so if they believe they can outrun the parasite."

John wondered how the insurgents could be so stupid. "Have you explained to them that the Wraith will not be doing a standard culling? That they don't allow technological advancement other than their own?"

Xerath shook her head. "They are under the impression that you are lying to us about that."

"Well, I guess extremists are the same wherever you go," John muttered.

"Unreasonable dirtbags that don't care what you say or do as long as their needs get put first?" Major Lorne offered.

"Precisely."

"Extremist mentality aside, we need to reassess our priorities in terms of troop deployment," the Justicer said. "I fear in an attempt to guard against insurrectionists, the Wraith, and their worshipers, we may be forced to stretch our defences too thin. Already, danger is slipping through the cracks. This threat to our citizens is unacceptable."

"Believe me, we feel the same way about the refugees," Sheppard said.

"In the eyes of the Protegan government, they are one and the same."

Sheppard was momentarily stunned by Xerath's sanguine tone of voice as she said this. He hadn't expected Protegat to so easily adopt the stray Pegasus citizens as their own, especially since their society so rarely had contact from any other human civilisation.

"That's very noble of you," Sheppard said, unsure how to express exactly what the Justicer's statement meant to him and his team.

"Currently," Xerath pushed on, "we have placed the highest importance on guarding the Ring and Stargate Control, but having our defences and gate under lock-down will matter little if we cannot supply power to the cannons, or communicate with the gunners."

John nodded. "Well, either way, you can't place all your fireteams on defensive deployments. Since your fire control and emergency response units are all part of the Military Corps, you need to put a good number of your fireteams on damage control."

"And I'm worried about the sheer size of the city," Lorne added. "If the Hive ship decides to fire on Protegat, a single shot would take down multiple towers at once. If any of the major spires like Stargate Control or High Command itself took a hit, that's over two hundred stories crashing down, and a lot of collateral damage."

"I am aware of this, Major." Xerath frowned. "But this city has no shield. The best we could hope for is to take the Hive out before it has a chance to do too much damage."

"It's worth remembering," Sheppard reminded them, "that Rodney said they won't be able to fire with anything resembling accuracy until they reach atmosphere. If neither Ancient nor Asgard scanners can penetrate that nebula, then there's no way the Wraith will be able to get a reading through it."

"And the Ancestral cannons can begin firing on them the moment they make orbit," Farade said with confidence.

John disagreed. "From what we've seen of Wraith tactics, I don't think the hive will chance going toe-to-toe with the cannons. They're more likely to send in a wave of darts from a safe distance, and only move in once they're sure of victory. Wraith Queens aren't big on leading from the front."

The room fell silent as everyone considered their options. For Sheppard, it kept coming back to the same thing; no matter how hard they tried, lives were going to be lost.


	8. First Wave

As the week passed, tension grew, and the long-range scanners remained offline.

Despite Rodney's efforts, he, Radeck, and Atheon were unable to make the deadline. Still, they refused to leave Sky Fleet Command, insistent they only needed one last breakthrough, but when the cloaked Puddlejumper they had stationed as a lookout reported the arrival of the Wraith fleet, Sheppard had to put his foot down.

Racing across the city in Jumper Five, he exchanged a nervous glance with Teyla. They had made the best preparations they could, but the battle could go either way. He keyed his radio headset. "Rodney, we are coming to pick you up. It's too late for the scanners to be of any use now."

_"So we know the Wraith are here, but until this scanner is operational again, we have no idea if they have any buddies on the way!"_ Rodney snapped back.

"We'll deal with that later, you and I are needed at the Ring!"

_"You go deal with that, Radeck and I are staying here."_

"Rodney!" Sheppard waited, fuming, for the physicist to respond, but was met with silence.

As anger morphed into fear, Teyla quickly said in soothing tones, "I am sure he has simply turned off his radio in order to work without distractions."

Sighing, Sheppard used the jumper's comms to contact the _Daedalus._ "How are things going, Colonel?"

Caldwell responded, _"We've just called off our hunt for the missing Freighters, and are returning to the city in atmosphere."_

"Still no sign of the insurrectionists then?"

_"Well, we know for sure that they aren't on the alpha continent, or on beta continent."_

"Which still leaves gamma and the poles," Sheppard muttered. "I guess it doesn't matter right now anyway. We'll see you when you get back."

_"We'll get there as soon as possible. Good luck, Colonel."_ With that, Caldwell disconnected the line.

"We're going to need luck by the end-" Sheppard cut himself off as Teyla's head snapped skyward, and a few seconds later his Protegan comm device activated.

_"Colonel Sheppard, I need you at the Ring now!"_ Justicer Xerath ordered.

Clicking the device to respond, Sheppard calmly explained. "I'm just about to pick McKay up-"

_"No time for that. The jumper scout reports a wave of darts incoming."_

Sheppard yanked the controls, abruptly changing their heading. "Dammit Rodney!" he cursed off-comm. "Alright, I'm on my way to Cannon Seven," he informed Xerath. "ETA: four minutes."

Putting on as much speed as he could, now familiar with the flight patterns of Sky Fleet's defence patrols, Sheppard cut the most direct path possible through the air to Cannon Seven, where Ronon and a team of marines were waiting with the Protegan staff. As they approached the weapon station, the jumper HUD threw up a warning as its sensors picked up the darts entering the atmosphere.

As there was nowhere safe to land on the weapon's tower, John was forced to park within the wall-like structure that circled the city, on which the ten cannons were built. Dashing out of the jumper before the rear hatch had finished opening, Sheppard and Teyla bolted through the Ring hangar, ignoring the pretty view through its massive windows, sprinting to the transporter that would take them up to the wrap-around balcony where the railgun turrets were set up.

With a flash of light they were immediately swept up to their destination, and Sheppard barely spared a moment to acknowledge the men and women who would be guarding both the station and his life as he scrambled up the ladder rungs built into the wall. Climbing into the small cab that housed the weapon's controls, John powered up the cannon and latched onto the controls that were so similar to the Puddlejumper's, operating it felt as familiar as his own heartbeat.

As he brought the cannon to bear its HUD flashed the same warnings his jumper had only moments ago, and he managed to get his sights locked on the wraith darts just as they came screaming into sight, bare specks in the distance.

"Alright people, remember the plan," Sheppard barked into his radio, "the cannons focus on wherever the darts group together, turrets and infantry take out the stragglers and the curious."

Receiving several affirmatives, John focused on his job, watching the darts split up just as they came in range. He sighted his first cluster and the weapon began charging, a low hum that built in pitch over five seconds before- _clang!_ The cannon kicked back on its suspension as it suddenly discharged its catastrophic payload of weaponised energy, tearing through the targeted darts with ease.

Sheppard watched with satisfaction as the darts hit directly were vaporised, and those nearby the energy bolt were thrown by turbulence and stripped bare by the sheer heat, as though they had flown too close to the sun.

Hearing whooping cheers from the soldiers below, Sheppard sighted his next group target and repeated the process, almost wishing he had earplugs to block out the extremely loud discharge. He could hear the other cannons firing down the line, and the HUD showed their targets.

It was Atidum's doing, of course, the city AI trying to prevent having multiple cannons firing on the same targets, though once the hive and cruisers showed themselves, they would need to do exactly that. But for now Atidum handled their coordination, highlighting patterns and calculating flightpaths, using the city's powerful sensors to track the enemy fighters. Sheppard and Lorne had asked it a personal favour, and it obliged, posting a small scoreboard of their individual kills, a tally that had a small betting pool surrounding it.

Sheppard had just pulled out in the lead when Atidum projected its bird-head avatar in the top left corner of the HUD. _"Orbital Defence scanners have detected the hive and its cruiser escort,"_ the AI's strange voice echoed on both Sheppard's radio and the cab's intercom. _"I have taken the liberty of recalling your cloaked Puddlejumper, as there is little more they can tell us."_

"Thanks, Ati," Sheppard said, smirking when the bird-avatar's crests fell flat in annoyance at the Lantean's flippant nickname. Atidum withdrew its avatar as Sheppard continued to take out as many darts as he could.

The wraith fighters soon closed distance, and the three railgun turrets opened fire at the same time the joint air forces of Lantean Puddlejumpers and Protegan Avems engaged the darts, the united front quickly breaking up into dozens of dog fights.

The darts seemed intent on breaking through their lines, but they weren't targeting the cannons as expected. Instead they made a beeline to Stargate Control, crashing into the massive tower as they were shot down by the pursuing avems and jumpers.

Evidently the Justicer noticed this unexpected behaviour too, and she radioed John looking for answers. _"Colonel Sheppard, what is their interest in Stargate Control?"_

_Clang!_ As Sheppard searched for his next target, he hurriedly ran through wraith tactics in his mind. "Is there an incoming wormhole?"

_"No,"_ Xerath answered curtly.

Which wasn't part of the Wraith's normal culling procedure- unless they didn't have Protegat's gate address. "Then they must be looking to dial out to one of the gates they control, to prevent anyone escaping through the stargate." _Clang! _"I recommend you dial out to Atlantis and keep it open, just incase we need that doorway."

_"Understood,"_ Xerath replied. _"I see you are beating the Major, Colonel,"_ she continued with a hint of amusement, _"keep up the good work."_

John didn't know their 'friendly competition' was being monitored. "Yes, ma'am," he offered, unsure of the best response.

But it was getting harder and harder to shoot down the darts, as their numbers dwindled and they weaved through the city, where Sheppard didn't dare take the shot. The darts weren't big enough to absorb the full impact of the blast, so even a direct hit would cause massive collateral damage. He decided instead to track the wraith fighters, calling out targets for his jumpers in the sky.

In short order, the last of the darts were destroyed.

Parts of the city had taken damage from the darts that were shot down and had crashed into the buildings, but there were no casualties and few injuries reported. Sheppard was waiting for orders to come down the line from Orbital Defence, but none were forth coming.

Impatient, John hailed the commanding officer at Orbital Defence, Protector Faresseer Ildrait. "Protector, what's going on? Do we have a go to take down the Hive or not?"

_"Colonel,"_ the Protector snapped, _"if the order to fire on the parasite's hive had been given you would have heard it."_ Sheppard suddenly remembered the grizzled Protegan Officer's intolerance of people who don't follow protocol. Too late to take back his casual address of her._ "As it currently stands, they are hiding behind the planet ring, even Atidum could not get a shot through the moon debris."_

The clever, cowardly bastards.

"They're bound to be re-assessing the situation," John said, climbing out of the cannon's cab. "We need to do the same." He stuck his head out, checking there was no one standing at the bottom of the ladder, before vaulting over the side, skipping the ladder and landing on the balcony, absorbing the impact on the balls of his feet.

"Colonel!" Teyla chastised, obviously concerned about his injury, but he shrugged her off, gesturing with his head at the transporter door. Teyla narrowed her eyes, but followed his suggestion, as did Ronon, and John led them to the hangar and the jumper.

Knowing the Ancient comm system was secure, Sheppard opened a line to High Command, Sky Fleet, and Orbital Defence. "Justicer Xerath, Protector Ildrait, Lord Farade, Commander Tylo, this is Colonel Sheppard, please come in." He waited a moment, knowing the Protegans would need to key into the system before they could respond.

_"Colonel Sheppard, you have Lord Farade and I,"_ Justicer Xerath answered.

_"Commander Tylo responding from Sky Fleet, Consulate Pacem and Doctors McKay and Zelenka are with me,"_ Tylo hailed.

_"Protector Ildrait responding from Orbital Defence." _

_"Colonel, you have the floor," _Xerath said.

"Thank you," Sheppard answered. "The Wraith are being more cautious than we anticipated, and while they are regrouping we need to re-evaluate the situation. They all but ignored the cannons on their first run, but we can be sure they've realised they don't have the luxury to ignore them forever. If they want to take them out though, their only real option would be another wave of darts; their small size and manoeuvrability make them the only things that can get close to the cannons. A nice, big target like a cruiser or hive can be taken out in-orbit, so they can't use all the firepower at their disposal."

_"Which is to our advantage, but we cannot take them out from behind the planet ring,"_ Protector Ildrait reminded him.

"Not with the cannons, no," Sheppard agreed.

"Colonel, if you are suggesting we launch a strike with the jumpers..." Teyla said sceptically.

"I'm not," John replied. "What I am proposing is for my team and I to take a cloaked jumper and sneak aboard the Hive."

_"Sabotage them the way they tried to sabotage us?"_ McKay weighed in.

"Exactly," Sheppard said. "We've done this sort of thing before. We'll only need help getting on board, and I know just who to ask." Right on cue, the _Daedalus_ thundered into view, flying high enough in-atmosphere that its sonic shockwave only rattled the city.

_"Colonel Sheppard, this is Colonel Caldwell, we have arrived back at the Protegan City," _the ship commander hailed them.

"Good to see you Colonel, though you've missed out on the action," Sheppard quipped. "How would you feel about making up for it with a dangerous and risky mission?"


	9. You Slap Me

Handing over control of Cannon seven to the back-up gunner, who'd been waiting in the wings should John become incapacitated, Sheppard filled Lorne in on where he and AR-1 were headed, then piled back into Jumper Five with Ronon and Teyla. As they flew to Sky Fleet on their way to pick up McKay, for real this time, they were able to see more of the damage the city had taken; the sporadic fires that Protegan fireteams were subduing.

Sky Fleet itself seemed to have been spared any additional attack, for which John was grateful, imagining how unpleasant Rodney would be if his stress levels got much higher.

As they approached the scanner room where Rodney and Radeck had been holed up for the last five days, they could hear McKay running off last-minute instructions, which Zelenka listened to with an expression of strained patience.

"Yes, I _know,_ Rodney," the Czech said, "now get rid of hive before it sends next attack."

"Just remember to ease the power feed on for the next test, we might actually need to rig some sort of adapter, the new parts are a bit patchy," Rodney ordered, then seemed to notice Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon. "Colonel! I take it Caldwell's agreed to your latest hare-brained scheme?"

"Was there ever any doubt?" Sheppard quipped.

"Well-"

"Don't answer that. Come on, the _Daedalus_ is moving into position as we speak. No time to waste." With his team back at full strength, John led the way out the messy, cluttered room, heading to the lower landing pad where his jumper waited. As they all took their usual seats in the forward section, John powered up the drive pods, taking off vertically, avoiding Fleet Command's runways. As they began their ascent, a squadron of Protegan Gladius shot down the runways; fast, lethal interceptor class fighters that were being committed to assisting the Lantean's assault on the Hive.

_"Gladius in the air and ready to assist, Colonel,"_ the squad leader hailed.

John smiled, recognising the pilot's voice as Commander Fireforge, with whom he had run aerial combat opps during the war games. "Good to hear from you again, Commander."

_"The pleasure is mine,"_ Fireforge replied, _"after all, you're about to sock those slagging parasites in the jaw."_

Sheppard chuckled as they powered towards the rendezvous point where the _Daedalus_ was waiting for their arrival.

_"Sure is an impressive ship,"_ Fireforge commented. The Earth ship drifted slowly, miles above the central spire of High Command, growing larger in the jumper's view port. A behemoth in the sky, it hung protectively over the city as they made their final approach.

"That she is," John agreed. "Alright, let's line up and dock."

This would be the trickiest part of the mission, at least for the gladius squad, as the pilots executed a manoeuvre they'd only tried once before. The problem was, while the gladius were space-worthy, they couldn't break atmosphere without rocket boosters, an idea the Lanteans introduced, but Protegat had yet to put into use.

The gladius pilots nosed in carefully, steering thrusters firing minutely as they struggled to avoid the hangar walls and the F-302s already parked inside. It took some time, but eventually all six fighters were stowed, three in each of the _Daedalus_' two hangars, and Sheppard finally docked Jumper Five in the port side hangar.

"Alright Colonel, we're all safely aboard," Sheppard notified Caldwell over the radio.

_"Understood. Beginning Undercut operation; exiting atmosphere." _John thought Caldwell would get along grandly with Ildrait. They were both so formal.

They heard the thud as the sublight drives increased thrust and began thrumming loudly, pushing the ship up and away from the planet's surface. John and his team exited the jumper, heading over to Fireforge's fighter, where the Gladius and 302 pilots were congregating.

Fireforge looked much the same as when they had first met; brown hair still cropped short, wearing the pilot variant of Protegan tac gear- armed with a single pistol holstered on his right thigh, ammo hanging in a harness on his left, white dress jacket and trousers over the standard undersuit. On his left wrist was a small data pad synced to his fighter; strapped on his right bicep a spare power booster. The only armour he wore was the vest, fitted with an oxygen supply, and the standard helmet, currently tucked under one arm. From the vest's belt hung his ID tag, which doubled as the ignition key for his gladius.

As Fireforge turned to face him, John suppressed a wince at the star-burst burn scar on the side of the Protegan pilot's face, the pale pink scar tissue sharp against the man's bronze skin. The scar was a result of a test pilot of the first prototype gladius. The small but powerful explosion had burst his left eardrum, and he wore the orange rank patches of the hard of hearing. But his dark blue eyes lit up as John approached, sparkling with familiarity and a hint of mischief.

Flicking an informal salute at Fireforge, who returned the greeting with his military's salute in the same casual manner, John made sure to stand to the right of the Commander so the man could hear him clearly. He then keyed his radio to the 302 pilots' frequency, and did the same with his Protegan comm unit, ensuring both lots of pilots in the starboard hangar could keep up.

"Alright speed-heads," Sheppard said, using the Protegan's affectionate term for interceptor-class fighter pilots, "you've been informed of our target, but I want to make sure everyone's clear of their objectives."

"You mean apart from kicking the parasites out of Protegan skies?" Fireforge asked.

"Yessir, apart from that," Sheppard replied with a glance at the Commander. "Now, we don't have the fire power to take out the hive in a ship-to-ship battle, and even if we did, the Wraith have us outnumbered with their cruisers alone. But that doesn't matter. Because we're not trying to blow them up with conventional weapons. Rather, we're here to perform a little maintenance on their hyperdrive."

McKay stepped forward and explained. "On a good day, we'd be able to use our Asgard transport beams to drop a nuke in the hive and be on our merry way, but we haven't had one of those in years. We know that if we launch a fighter attack on the Wraith they will be forced to respond in kind, which gives us a window of opportunity to sneak a cloaked jumper on the hive. From there, an experienced team such as ourselves can navigate to the hyperdrive and blow it up, preferably from a safe distance. A truly talented individual- yours truly- can use the destruction of the hyperdrive to cause a fatal overload in the hive's power supply, and thus the ship will tear itself to pieces while we sit back and watch."

"Now," Sheppard continued, "it's likely the cruisers will bug out once the hive is gone, so it will be your job to target their engines. The _Daedalus_ is going to jam their comms so they can't call for help, but you'll have the additional targets of their comms array and weapons. That said you'll likely be caught up in dog fights half the time. Don't take unnecessary risks, keep your head and watch out for your wingman; if you stick together you can clear the skies and then worry about what the cruisers are up to. Understood?"

A small chorus of 'yes, sir' and the pilots broke up, drifting back to their fighters. Fireforge watched them go with a cheery expression, then turned to Sheppard, speaking in a low tone. "So what are the chances we actually pull this off?"

"If things go as planned, we'll be fine. Just make sure your guys pull out the moment we give the word- when that hive goes the shockwave will take out any fighters too close." John nodded at the passing pilots, concern quieting his voice.

"My speed-heads will do their part, Colonel, but what if you can't get to the hyperdrive?"

John met the Commander's eyes with a level gaze. "We'll knock out their jammers and the _Daedalus _will beam a nuke aboard, and you'll tell everyone planetside what big damn heroes we were."

Fireforge's expression tightened, then smoothed out again. "Good thing you're going to make it dirtside to do your own bragging."

"Good thing," Sheppard agreed, then Caldwell's voice came over the ship's intercom.

_"All hands to your stations, prepare for engagement."_

"Get to your ship, hotshot," Fireforge said dismissively as he and his co-pilot climbed back into their gladius' cockpits.

"Oh and Commander?" John called as he and AR-1 headed back to Jumper Five. "Last one in buys the drinks."

"I look forward to it!"

As Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, and McKay settled back in the jumper, they felt the _Daedalus_ shudder as the first rounds hit its shields. In the next instant they felt and heard the Earth ship's defiant reply, its railguns ripping into the wraith fleet in turn.

_"Jumper Five, prepare to launch."_

Sheppard brought the jumper to full readiness, lifting up from the hangar bay floor and activating the cloak. "Jumper Five, prepped and ready to deploy."

The hangar's depressurisation alarms sounded, and the last of the bay's technicians cleared out, all F-302 and Gladius pilots safely sealed within their cockpits.

_"Opening bay doors."_

And indeed the massive doors did grind open. From orbit, the nebula appeared to streak out and away from the planet in random spurs. Sheppard aimed the jumper senses at the wraith hive, quickly plotting his flight path to avoid the planet ring. "Jumper Five deploying in three, two-"

Where he normally would've counted down to one, John hit the proverbial accelerator, racing ahead of the _Daedalus_ to get into position near the hive's hangar before the fighter teams launched.

Ducking fire from the cruisers and hive, all directed at the _Daedalus,_ whose shields shrugged off the damage for now, Sheppard cleared the relatively short distance between the fighting ships. He then commed Caldwell through the jumper's systems. "We're clear and ready to board, proceed with the fighter attack."

_"Affirmative."_

The HUD showed first the six-fighter squadron of gladius fighters spew out of the Earth ship's hangars, then the F-302s following close behind. As the fighters made a beeline for the wraith fleet, spitting out light weapons fire, they were joined by darts from the cruisers and hive. The human forces scattered, and the scene devolved immediately into a mess of dog fights.

As John rushed the jumper through the dart bay doors before they could close again, the small ship picked up on just enough telemetry to show Commander Fireforge's speed-heads form up two separate hunting packs, taking out the less-organised wraith forces while the Earth pilots began targeting the cruisers' weapons.

The dart bay shut behind them, and the HUD went blank. As much as he wanted to be out there, fighting alongside the pilots, John focused on his and his team's mission.

He found a suitable niche in the bay's honeycombed interior, where no wraith was likely to stumble across their jumper by accident and parked.

"Okay," John said on comm, "we're in."


	10. I Slap You

_You never get used to that smell,_ John reflected as he stepped out of the jumper, leading Ronon, Teyla, and McKay into the belly of the beast. Wraith ships always seemed to have the same sickly-sweet scent of rot and decay. He supposed that was because of the organic nature of wraith technology, unless it was just the smell of their preferred incense. Who knew with these guys?

Creeping along cautiously, Sheppard paused at the open arch leading out from the small hole in the bay wall they had parked in. Looking back to double-check the ship's cloak was engaged and fully-functioning, John waved McKay closer.

"Got an idea of which direction we need to go in?" the pilot asked.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Of course. We need to go to the nearest access terminal so I can download schematics on the off chance this ship isn't standard-issue. We'll navigate from there."

"So left or right?" Sheppard said, resisting an eye-roll of his own. McKay sure had a tendency to miss the obvious.

"Oh, left."

Silently, Sheppard led his team, guided by Rodney's basic hand signals. When they reached the first terminal, he, Ronon, and Teyla automatically spread out to cover the room while McKay plugged his tablet into the Hive's systems.

"All right, let's see what we've got here," the physicist said under his breath. He read through several readouts with a slight frown on his face, then input a query. When the device gave a negative beep, the frown deepened. "What?" Rodney muttered, clearly unhappy at the ship's response.

"McKay, do we have a problem?" Sheppard asked in an undertone.

"No," Rodney hesitated, "well maybe. It might be nothing. This way to the hyperdrive."

Sheppard caught Ronon's flat expression of annoyance, and smothered his own irritation. Heading out again, letting Rodney play GPS, Sheppard and his team continued to creep through the dark purple hallways. The low fog curled around their feet, their path leaving a brief, disturbed trail. Their P90's mounted flashlights' beams glinted in the silver-white webs that adorned the walls and ceiling. The webbing always made John's skin crawl; it looked near identical to the web of the iratus bug.

Shaking his head to fight the instinctual fear those memories brought up, Sheppard caught a sympathetic glance from Teyla. He knew his team were aware how uncomfortable he felt when he was immersed in wraith decor, but they never actually talked about it. They never would. And they would never need to. John could feel their unspoken support, warm like a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He'd be lost in so many ways without McKay, Ronon, and Teyla, always having his back.

Peering around the corner, John threw a fist up, halting his team. Turning in place, he signed out the wraith patrol marching down the next corridor. Rodney shook his head and gestured forward sharply, and John got the message; no way around them. The heavy steps of the warriors' booted feet grew louder while he, Ronon, Teyla, and McKay took up position, sheltering behind the wide corridor's buttresses.

When the wraith patrol turned the corridor, AR-1 opened fire, taking the lead wraith by surprise, but it was only a matter of seconds before the warriors behind the first returned fire. The sound of the P90's ear-splitting clatter was amplified by the closed-in space, and the electronic blasts of the wraith stunners were a subtle undertone. Then the screeching, vaguely insectoid alarm was activated, cutting short the time John and his team had to complete their mission.

Even though he knew it couldn't be helped, Sheppard cursed.

Firing at the snarling wraith until they dropped for good, John pressed on, leading the team into a steady jog, abandoning stealth for speed. They ran into another patrol, cut them down, and blundered right in to the next one.

Ronon reacted first, drawing his sword and slicing down at the nearest wraith in one elegant move. The wraith were next to respond, the one closest to Sheppard throwing a wild punch while the others attempted to orient their stunners against the Lantean intruders.

Sheppard slapped away the punch with his left hand, then used his P90 to backhand his assailant, and swept down and low, striking out with his right leg to trip up the wraith. As he did so, Rodney and Teyla opened fire from behind him. Rolling to the side, Sheppard stood back to his full height, clear of their line of fire. One wraith moved against Ronon, who seemed oblivious, wielding his sword like a force of nature while the wraith snuck behind the Specialist. Practiced, fluid, Sheppard drew his knife, hurling it left-handed at the threat, sinking the blade into the creature's spine, severing the spinal cord. The wraith dropped like a stone, collapsing face-down at the Satedan's heels.

Letting off a quick succession of rapid-fire bursts, Sheppard cut down a few more targets, and the hallway was clear again. "You're losing your edge, Ronon," he joked as he reclaimed his knife.

Ronon shrugged. "I knew you had my back."

Sheppard glanced back at the Satedan, acknowledging his statement, then signalled for silence. They then continued through the hive, John leading AR-1 steadily towards the hyperdrive. They encountered no further patrols as they closed distance, finding a slew of guards instead.

Sheppard made use of a few flash-bangs, taking the stationed guards by surprise as he and his team charged in, their ticking deadline spurring them to somewhat reckless behaviour. However, the combined firepower of three P90s and Ronon's blaster were sufficient to overcome the guards. Rushing past their fallen bodies, John, Ronon, and Teyla quickly secured the drive room.

It looked about the same as any number of wraith hyperdrive systems they had seen; glowing components partially covered in rubbery webbing, vein-like cables, and a touch-pad terminal reminiscent of skin stretched over a drum. Rodney yanked his data pad back off his vest, connecting directly with the hyperdrive systems.

"Make it quick, McKay," John called over the strident alarms as he and Ronon guarded the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," Rodney muttered irritably and input a string of commands on his tablet.

They lapsed into silence as the physicist worked, straining to hear past the hive's alarms for the first sounds of the next patrol. All they managed to hear was a series of angry, negative beeps from McKay's pad.

"Say, friends?" Rodney began, "Remember how I said we _might_ have a problem?"

Cursing internally, Sheppard looked back and prompted the man for more information. "Do we have a problem?"

"I can safely say we most definitely have a problem," he answered. "For any number of possible reasons, this hive has upgraded their system's internal security."

"You're just noticing this now?"

"I actually saw it the moment I connected to check the schematics, but I wasn't sure of the extent of it until now," McKay elaborated. "When I made my first inquiry the ship attempted to upload a virus, but it couldn't get past my pad's firewall. I didn't think too much of it at the time, I mean it was probably installed in response to the Replicators. But, now that I'm trying to mess up the ship's systems, it keeps throwing up walls and containment protocols."

John frowned. "Can you get around it?"

"Not quickly," Rodney said, focusing back on his pad. "Even if I did get around it, from what I'm seeing it looks like the system would be able to manage whatever changes I could make and prevent the hyperdrive from going critical. I've got another idea that might work but it'll take some time."

John exchanged a glance with Ronon. Time was not something they had. "Alright, it's not like we have much choice. Do it, Rodney."

Rodney didn't reply, just unplugged his tablet and began working on whatever his new plan was.

"Sheppard." Ronon's quiet address drew John's attention, and the ex-Runner gestured toward the hall, where the Colonel could now hear the sound of many booted feet approaching.

John lined up his sights as Teyla wordlessly took up position near Rodney, and he, Ronon, and Teyla stilled, focused on the open doorway and the corridor that lay beyond it.

The repetitive clomp of heavy boots grew louder, closer; the wraith patrol turned the corner...

And walked right into a world of hurt.

Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard opened fire without mercy, fiercely holding down their position against the wraith.

Firing again and again at the oncoming horde of alien vampires, John stressed over their rapidly dwindling ammo supply. The wraith came in a near-constant stream, burying the Lanteans in bodies. Time dragged on and yet seemed to fly, to not exist at all. The only real marker of time was the growing litter of spent bullet casings, the wraith soldiers slumped against the corridor walls.

With a slight toss of his head, Sheppard threw out an empty magazine, loading his last cartridge. Then Rodney called out from behind them.

"Got it! We have to bail out now and I mean _now!_ We've got ten minutes to get clear before we get blasted to oblivion!"

Glancing back over his shoulder, Sheppard briefly saw McKay hustling up behind him before re-focusing on the attacking wraith. "What did you do?"

"You really don't want to stick around to find out first hand, _let's go!_"

Rodney sounded scared, so John decided to worry about the details later. "Teyla! Ronon! Suppressing fire!"

The Pegasus natives lay into it, forcing the wraith to stop firing their stunners and take cover. Sheppard dashed forward, pinning them down and using up the last of his ammo to put the wraith drones down. "Corridor clear."

As the rest of his team caught up, McKay wordlessly handed Sheppard two of his spare magazines. Accepting them with a nod, John reloaded his P90 again, and together they dashed off.

They were able to hide from the next group of wraith they encountered, who trundled by obliviously, headed for AR-1's previous location. But in the last corridor before they reached the jumper, they got into yet another firefight.

Dropping to one knee, Sheppard opened up on the wraith in between them and their ticket off the doomed hive, Rodney firing from directly overhead. Across the other side of the hallway, Teyla and Ronon mirrored their stances.

"Six minutes!" Rodney yelled.

Completely spent of P90 magazines, Sheppard tossed the rifle aside, the clatter lost in the noise of the skirmish, and swiftly drew his side arm. "Are you sure they can't undo whatever you did?"

"They won't have the time to figure it out!" Rodney answered. "This is possibly my finest sabotage work so far, and I'd hate for it to be my last!"

"I'll just ask the wraith to let us by then!"

Rodney didn't reply. Sheppard heard his soft grunt as the physicist took a hit from a stunner, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

"Ronon!" John yelled.

"Got him!" Ronon dashed across the narrow space, firing as he went to heft up McKay. With Rodney draped over one shoulder, Ronon kept his right arm unburdened, still shooting defiantly at the wraith.

Teyla took down the last of the wraith, and she, Sheppard, and Ronon surged along the corridor with Rodney in tow. Ronon pulled McKay through to the niche the Puddlejumper was parked in, Teyla following close behind while John covered their six.

Hurriedly taking the controls, John powered up the jumper while Ronon and Teyla got Rodney settled in the rear section. Immediately, Sheppard got on radio to hail their forces outside the Hive, even as he prepared to blast the dart bay doors from the inside.

"Jumper Five to all Atlantis and Protegan forces, pull out immediately!" Two drones from the jumper made short work of the doors. "Repeat, all forces pull out immediately! I'm not sure what Rodney's done but the hive is going in two minutes," John advised as he sent the jumper careening out of the bay. "Everyone get to the minimum safe zone now!"

As he followed his own advice, John was relieved to see all fighters disengage, powering away from the wraith ships at maximum thrust ahead of the jumper.

_"Sheppard, the hive is powering their hyperdrive,"_ Colonel Caldwell responded. _"Should we take out their engines?"_

John's eyes flicked to a still-unconscious McKay, and pursed his lips. His gut said 'no', but letting the hive escape was a huge risk... Still, Rodney had seemed confident in his fear... "No," he decided.

Sheppard had less than a second to pray he had made the right call. Suddenly, the jumper sensors screamed a warning, there was a sub-sonic thud, followed by an unidentified shockwave that caused the small ship to slew about wildly, spinning to face the wraith hive and cruisers. John pulled at the controls as they drifted, trying to bring the jumper back under control when the hive opened a hyperspace window... right in the middle of the ship.

Feeling his jaw drop slightly open, John watched in amazement as the hyperspace window glitched, disintegrating with a strange particle-like effect, and the hive bowed at the middle, its now separate front and back halves slowly drifting apart from one another. Where the two pieces of the hive had previously been connected, there was nothing but a cauterised wound, spitting sparks and small explosions.

"Holy crap," John breathed.

The spectacle of destruction was not done yet. Having been packed in close to one another to hide behind what was left of the planet's moon, the wraith cruisers could not manoeuvre away from the destroyed hive, two being taken out in a collision with one half. Realising the danger to his team had not yet passed either, though all fighters had gotten clear ahead of the initial shockwave, John tried to get the jumper headed back in the right direction, but the controls appeared to have short circuited. Sheppard barely had enough time to think that this could be very, very bad before a third cruiser got collected by the wrecked hive, and exploded with a fury.

The shockwave of _that_ explosion took out the fourth cruiser, while the fifth managed to get clear, but the jumper had no such luck.

Tossed by sudden, extreme turbulence, Sheppard and Ronon were almost thrown from their seats in the forward section, while Teyla and Rodney were dropped on the floor of the rear compartment. Sheppard took one look at the read out on the HUD before staggering into the rear with Ronon. Working together, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon managed to get McKay into co-pilot seat, mildly more secure than the benches in the back, before they flung themselves into their own seats.

"Brace yourselves!" John yelled as he fought with the controls, trying in vain to make Jumper Five respond before-

The tail of the jumper smacked into a smaller asteroid, equivalent in size to the small ship, breaking off one of the drive pods. The jumper screeched in protest.

"That's your fault!" John snapped at the ship, as the impact changed their trajectory, sending them spinning into the upper atmosphere. The jumper continued to blare strident warnings as Protegat's gravity pulled them inexorably faster, closer to the ground. Somehow, part of the HUD still managed to show it when the last cruiser jumped through a hyperspace window, escaping the carnage, but John had a far more pressing issue to deal with.

They were going down. Hard.


	11. Gravity Wins

Slowly, begrudgingly, consciousness returned to Sheppard, and he stirred sluggishly. The smell of scorched metal pervaded the air, and he could hear intermittent sparks. As he realised he was draped across something that was digging rather uncomfortably into his ribcage, John groaned and forced his eyes blearily open.

His head rested on its side, and as his blurry vision cleared up, he could make out Rodney slumped over the co-pilot control console. As John watched, he noted with relief the soft rise and fall of the physicist's chest as he breathed, so that was at least one of his team members alive. Lifting his head on a stiff neck, Sheppard moved cautiously, testing his body for sharp pains, but was able to lay eyes first on Teyla, who looked as though she'd been tossed against the back of her seat, and then Ronon, who was half out of his seat, his head and chest resting on the jumper's fuselage. The former Runner looked the most awkward, so John decided to check on him first.

As he stood, he felt a massive rush to his head, making him dizzy, while his previously injured right thigh screamed a protest and collapsed out under his weight. Catching himself by grasping his own seat back for support, John stifled a cry as his ribs flared with pain. Carefully pushing up with his left leg, John stood holding the chair and breathed shallowly. This was definitely not one of his better landings.

After a moment, the pain settled to more or less background noise, and Sheppard was able to move again. Grabbing onto parts of the ceiling, John limped closer to Ronon and gently checked the man's pulse. Relief flooded through him upon finding a steady if accelerated beat. Unable to spot any obvious injuries, worried to move him in case of any internal injuries or breaks, John left him and moved on to check Teyla.

Teyla had taken a solid crack across the head, and blood ran down her left temple from a cut hidden in her hairline. Though the bleeding had stopped and the blood was semi-dry, Sheppard fretted, especially once he found her slow, uneven pulse. He heard stirring behind him, and Ronon grunted as he sat up.

"Sheppard?" Ronon asked as John gently, gently, grabbed Teyla's shoulders.

"Check Rodney," the Colonel said with a glance back, seeing Ronon standing, then walking without obvious difficulty.

John tried to rouse the unconscious woman before him. "Teyla?" he probed. "Teyla I need you to wake up now."

Teyla stirred fretfully, her eyelids fluttering open then slamming shut with a wince.

"There you are." John sighed, a short breath of relief. "What's your name?"

Keeping her eyes closed, Teyla licked her lips and answered in a confused voice. "Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan and Torren."

John nodded. "And who is the current leader of Atlantis?"

"Colonel Samantha Carter." Teyla sounded more sure of her answer, her words less slurred.

"Where do you live?"

Teyla opened her eyes, though her expression remained pinched. "The city of the Ancestors, Atlantis."

"Alright, that's good," John said with further relief as he let go of her arms and leaned back, tilting his weight onto his left side.

"McKay seems all right," Ronon said as he straightened up.

John let out a short breath, not wanting to push his sore ribs, and settled in pilot seat, turning the chair to face the middle of the cockpit. Ronon sat back down too, and the team fell silent as they considered what came next.

"At least McKay blew that hive to kingdom come," John said at last, with a rueful chuckle. He glanced at the still-unconscious physicist, wondering how long it had been since they'd crashed. Checking his watch revealed nothing, its cracked screen showing a random series of numbers. "Teyla, is your watch still working?"

Teyla moved gingerly as she read her digital watch's reading, staring at it a prolonged moment before replying. "I believe it is a little over half an hour since we left the Hive."

John turned to stare out the scratched, cracked, and slightly buckled viewscreen. Broken branches hung haphazardly over the cockpit glass; spatters of dirt kicked up from the crash blotted the view here and there. "It'll be getting dark soon," he commented, then tried to power the ship up.

No response.

"Well," Sheppard swivelled his seat back around, "looks like comms are offline. No radio either, so no pick-up. Unless either of you brought a Protegan beacon?"

Ronon shook his head, while Teyla, still speaking carefully, answered, "I am afraid not."

"I guess we'll have to wait until McKay's up to see if he can figure out which direction the city's in," John sighed. "We'll have to hoof it in the morning."

He stood up, heading through to the rear compartment, Ronon following, and together they picked up the cases that had fallen out of the overhead netting. Digging around, they fetched four water bottles from the emergency supplies, and brought them back to the forward section. As Sheppard walked back through, Teyla gasped.

"John!"

Alarmed, Sheppard turned immediately, trying to follow her line of sight, to see where the problem was. "What? What's wrong?"

"Your leg- sit down right now!" Teyla rushed to her feet, swaying unsteadily for a moment before pushing John roughly to his seat and grabbing the first aid kit from behind Ronon's.

John stumbled back into pilot seat, then looked down at his legs. _Ah, that's what she's so worried about,_ John thought as he saw the wet blood darkening his black BDUs. And here he'd thought it was something serious. "Woah, Teyla, calm down," he said as she tripped over her own feet, clearly feeling the effects of her head injury.

"You never should have opted out of surgery," Teyla chastised, barging past Ronon with the bulky first aid case in hand.

"Do you think anyone else could've done what we just did?" Sheppard asked disparagingly.

"Major Lorne can fly the jumper as well as you can," Teyla retorted as she kneeled down and opened the case.

John frowned. "Lorne's not _quite_ as good a pilot as I am. But even if he was, he doesn't have the political clout to get an op like that authorised."

Teyla hummed irritably, so Sheppard decided to switch tracks. "The point is moot, anyway. What's done is done. I'm more worried about you. You took a bad hit to the head, Teyla, you should be resting, not-" John cut off with a strained grunt as Teyla tugged a little too firmly on his BDUs in an attempt to cut them open.

Her mouth dropped open and she hurriedly put the scissors in her hand down, her hands coming up helplessly. "I am sorry, Colonel," she breathed.

Sheppard bit back a groan, as the nerves surrounding the old wound, previously frozen with local cryo, let the full breadth of their displeasure be known. "Maybe let Ronon handle it," John suggested weakly.

Teyla's ashamed and repentant expression tore at him as she slowly stood back, looking miserable.

"If it helps," John offered, "I'll admit, you were right, back at Zolaria."

Teyla gave a half-hearted smile. "I always knew that."

Ronon sighed as he knelt down, picking up the scissors Teyla had abandoned. John lapsed into silence as the Satedan, not unkindly, cut away enough material to see the freshly bleeding injury. "This looks like it happened today, not six days ago."

"Yeah, that cryo stuff is pretty impressive," Sheppard said, staring up at the jumper ceiling. He knew the tightness of his voice betrayed the pain he was in. It actually felt worse than when the bullet tore through days ago. "Mind you, I'm not so impressed by the after effects."

"Medicus Barukazar warned you the nerves would become inflamed once they thawed out," Teyla pointed out.

"To be honest," John grunted, "I thought that wouldn't happen until I had the time to get laid up in hospital with some good painkillers."

"Sheppard," Ronon interrupted, "time for a fresh pressure bandage."

"Oh _joy_," the Colonel breathed, looking down at his substitute nurse. "Just do it as fast as you can."

Ronon nodded, and brusquely, efficiently, wrapped the bandage tightly around the entry and exit wounds. Sheppard bit his lower lip, but couldn't help but let one bark of pain out as the Satedan gave a sharp pull to tie off the material.

Over to his left, McKay finally stirred.

With something of a dramatic groan, Rodney slowly sat up. "What's with all the noise?" The physicist slowly took in the room; Teyla sitting slumped, gazing unsteadily at Sheppard, who breathed heavily with unfixed eyes, Ronon hovering in a crouch, open first aid kit at his feet while his arms hovered as though ready to catch Sheppard should he fall forward.

Rodney's eyes moved to take in the view through the cracked cockpit glass, then slid to John with an accusation. "You crashed us!" he whined.

Still focusing more on breathing than anything else at that time, Sheppard waved a dismissive hand at Rodney. He was not in the mood for the usual theatrics.

As though satisfied that John was not going to collapse anytime soon, Ronon stood, pulling the first aid kit over to Teyla, and gestured for her to turn her head. When she did so, Ronon carefully began cleaning the blood off her face, trying to find the cut so he could treat it.

Rodney grabbed one of the water bottles Sheppard and Ronon had brought through, then paused. "So we obviously made it off the hive, what happened?"

John let out a breath, then, speaking haltingly, filled the physicist in. "We told the fighters to clear out, and were almost at a safe distance when some sort of shockwave the jumper couldn't identify shorted out the power supply. Knocked the jumper around a bit, too. We got spun around, so we actually got to see it when you teleported half the hive to oblivion." Sheppard shook his head in disbelief, "I've never seen anything like that."

"It worked? The hyperdrive opened the window in the same space the ship was occupying?" Rodney asked, near crowing with victory.

"Sure did. The hive was cut in two, and the debris from that K-O'd four of the cruisers," Sheppard confirmed. "Of course, we were sitting ducks at that point, got knocked into the planet ring and pulled into a tug-of-war with gravity. Gravity won."

"Gravity always wins," Rodney said dismissively.

"Well, duh. So," he paused, still breathless, "is that going to make it into our playbook?" John asked.

"Doubt it," Rodney answered. "That was a right pain, trying to override enough safety protocols to force the hyperdrive to change the window coordinates to a location within the ship. Hopefully in future situations we can still use the power overload, because a repeat performance would require as much time and effort as the first."

"Shame." John leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his thigh still throbbing painfully. "Well, you're gonna have to figure out which way the Protegan city is before morning."

"What? Why? Surely we can call for a lift?"

"The jumper comms are fried, and we're too far out for short-range."

"Well did you even try to hail a ride?" Rodney's voice pitched higher, triggering a sudden headache for Sheppard.

"Sure, you try and fix it. I'll wait here until you figure out there's nothing that can be done. Just do me a favour and keep the volume down, okay?" he snapped.

"What is your problem, Colonel?" Rodney retaliated. "You're the one that crashed the Puddlejumper!"

Opening his eyes, Sheppard glared at McKay, but Ronon answered first. "Shush up, both of you. Teyla has a concussion."

Rodney looked stunned, like the thought of his teammates being injured hadn't even occurred to him. John felt angry with himself for letting Teyla's condition slip his mind.

"And McKay? Sheppard tore open his gunshot wound. He's trying to pretend otherwise, but he's in a lot of pain," Ronon continued. "So shush."

"Okay, okay," Rodney said as he pulled a Life Signs Detector out from his vest. "Sorry."

The physicist stood, scanning the jumper controls, before moving to the rear section, pulling down the overhead crystal trays and tutting at the darkened crystals.

"Hm," he muttered. "You're right, no power whatsoever. Did the shockwave knock it out or did this happen during the crash?"

Sheppard matched his quiet voice. "During, I presume. It's all a little fuzzy."

"Guess it doesn't make much difference. This jumper's not going to fly again without a full workup." Rodney's expression brightened a moment. "Hey, I don't suppose any of you guys brought a beacon?"

"No," Sheppard answered, and saw McKay's shoulders slump.

"So we don't really have any choice except walking back." Rodney sounded so worried.

"It'll be fine," John promised. "Atheon programmed my LSD with the locations of all the emergency caches; we'll have access to additional supplies as we go."

Rodney huffed in irritation, walking back into the forward section while brandishing his LSD in all directions. "Got it," he pointed north-west, "the city is over that way, but I'm not sure how far... Unless... Give me your LSD."

Sheppard handed over the Ancient device.

Rodney pulled something up on it, then they could hear it scanning. "Yep, I've got the cache locations, now with this and a map of the continent I should be able to narrow down our location within a few klicks." Rodney sat down and pulled out his tablet, visibly comparing the two devices' readings and muttering under his breath.

Finished with patching up Teyla, Ronon went into the back and opened the rear hatch, striding outside without a word. Sheppard only then noticed the smoke hanging around in the air, irritating his lungs. With the rear hatch open, the air started to clear.

Sheppard inhaled, savouring the sweet, fresh- if dry- air flowing through the ship. As he drew in a deeper breath, his ribs flared, and his diaphragm spasmed. Wincing, he coughed weakly, trying very hard _not_ to cough, knowing it would only upset his ribs more. Finally managing to smother the fit, Sheppard looked up to see both Rodney and Teyla staring at him.

He froze for a moment, then hastily rearranged his expression to look a little less caught-out. "Glad that smoke's clearing out, hey?"

"Colonel," Teyla stated, waiting with a patient look on her face.

John tried to throw on his poker face, but pain skewered it, kept him off-balance. "I'm fine."

Rodney groaned with exasperation. "So are your ribs broken or sprained?"

Sheepish, John avoided both his teammates' gaze.

Rodney slapped his palms down on his thighs. "For crying out loud, Colonel, just tell us which one it is."

With his head turned away from Teyla and Rodney, Sheppard muttered, "Sprained. Pretty sure anyway."

Evidently Teyla didn't believe him. "Ronon," she called quietly, "would you mind checking the Colonel for any floating ribs?"

The Satedan reappeared in the open hatchway, quickly striding into the jumper to stand before John. "Sit up straight a sec."

"I could really do without the theatrics," Sheppard mumbled, but complied anyway, and allowed Ronon to press firmly on his upper back and chest.

Ronon kept an eye on John's face, watching carefully for signs of pain, as he completed his examination. "Nothing obvious," he said, before picking up the remaining water bottles. "You guys need to drink."

"Thank-you, Ronon," Teyla said, accepting a bottle and sipping at it.

Sheppard received his after murmuring a quiet "Thanks."

"Rodney got us a direction yet?" Ronon questioned.

"Yeah, north-west," Sheppard answered.

Ronon nodded. "It's still over an hour until sundown; I'll scout a trail."

With that, the Satedan checked his blaster and left the jumper.

"Rodney, put that down a second," John said, cautiously standing up.

"Colonel, I need to figure out the distance so we can plan our hike properly," McKay retorted.

Sheppard shook his head. "You'll still be able to do that after dark, but we need to get something of a camp set up."

"The jumper will protect us from-"

"The jumper keeps filling itself up with smoke. I don't think it's smart to breath that stuff in over a long period of time." Sheppard sighed. "But I suppose, if that doesn't worry you, and you don't mind having a cold dinner..." he trailed off for dramatic effect.

McKay set the LSD and tablet aside. "Actually, maybe a campfire and tents aren't such a bad idea."

Teyla smiled in amusement as she, too, got to her feet. "Colonel, be careful of your leg. I shall help you set up the tents, Rodney can collect firewood and clear the ground."

"Alright," John said with a smile of his own. Tossing a cheeky glance at Rodney, he added, "Don't forget to check the wood is dry, servant boy."

"Everything on this continent is dry," McKay retorted. "Jeez, you bring back green firewood _one time_ and you'll never hear the end of it."

Teyla and Sheppard pulled the small, compact survival kit out from the storage over the benches in the back, while Rodney swept past them. When they stepped out of the jumper themselves, they found Rodney waiting off to the right, above the furrow the jumper had carved in the dirt.

They tread carefully across the loose dirt, and Rodney held out a hand. "Pass me the kit."

Sheppard handed off the heavy kit, and McKay set it down on firmer ground, then reached back. Not too prideful to admit he was struggling, Sheppard let Rodney help Teyla up first, then accepted the same help from both of them.

Outside of the ship, John could really see the damage their crash had wrought. The jumper itself had deep gouges in it, and the fuselage was buckled on the starboard side. John figured that must've been the side that hit the first asteroid, because they were short a drive pod on starboard. The port drive pod was mangled, smoking.

They stared at it in silence for a minute, then McKay broke the quiet. "Well there's a ship that's not going to fly again."

Sheppard chuckled. "Nah, that'll buff out."

"Ha-ha," Rodney said sarcastically. "Let's hurry up and find a campsite."

Sheppard looked around at the rolling plains they had crashed in. Dry grass blanketed most the area; here and there, small copses of trees. The jumper had come stationary halfway in a spur of dry forest that ran across the northern horizon. Narrowing his eyes, John decided the trees were a type of cypress. "Let's stick close to the jumper, next to the trees," he suggested.

"Not under them?" Rodney asked.

"Falling branches, remember? If there's a risk of a storm you never set up under trees. We covered this in basic survival, back in the first year of the expedition."

"Right, right, I forgot." Rodney made a beeline for the front of the jumper, where he picked up one of the larger green branches broken off by the ship.

"Over here," Sheppard called, limping to a patch of dry, compacted dirt, a few metres out from the nearest overhanging boughs. Rodney and Teyla joined him, Teyla nodding approvingly as Rodney set to work, using his pine branch to sweep sticks and pine cones out of the way.

"That should do it," the physicist said, finishing up. "I'll go get that _dry_ firewood."

"Good job, Rodney," Sheppard said with a smile, watching him wander off, keeping close to the edge of the trees, in sight of the team.

"He has learned much since he first joined the team," Teyla commented.

"They grow up so fast," John said in a mock-teary voice. Teyla whacked his arm playfully.

John opened the supply kit. "Okay, let's do this."

It took them about forty minutes to set up four individual, one-man tents, eighteen of which were spent on the first. But they quickly settled into a system in which John sat on the ground, connecting tent poles and laying out the folded canvas in order, making it easier for Teyla to complete the assembly. When Rodney returned with an armful of good firewood, they had him peg the tents in place; Teyla's concussion not up for the repetitive jarring motion of hammering the pegs into the ground, and Sheppard's leg not in any condition for crouching over the pegs. While Rodney hammered the pegs, Sheppard and Teyla got the fire started.

By the time Ronon returned from his scout, the sun was creeping below the horizon, turning the blue sky orange, and giving the aqua-purple-gold nebula new life. The flamboyant colour cast ever-lengthening shadows over their fully-set camp. Ronon sat down on the ground with the rest of the team, sitting in a circle around the cheerfully flickering fire.

Rodney had brought his tablet and John's LSD out of the jumper, and had resumed pouring over them while Teyla and Sheppard heated their dinner, which consisted of emergency rations and bottled water, over the fire.

"So, Ronon," Sheppard began, "if you can get the rear hatch mostly closed again, we'll leave our food in the jumper overnight. Hopefully nothing hungry will smell it if we keep it packed up properly. And whoever is on watch needs to keep a Life Signs Detector on them. Some of the native fauna shows up on it, mostly the bigger carnivores, so it'll be nice to have that forewarning if any are creeping about."

"I won't need one," the former Runner simply stated.

Sheppard couldn't argue with him on that. "In that case, you'll have first watch, Rodney can take second, I'll take third."

"So I am on the last watch?" Teyla asked.

"You're not on watch at all," Sheppard replied. "We'll have to wake you through the night to keep an eye on your concussion, so one of us three has to be awake at all times anyway. No way we're leaving you unsupervised."

Teyla frowned, but didn't argue. They ate their dinner in quiet conversation, after which Rodney finished his calculations.

"Damn, we're at least fifty kilometres out." Rodney looked up from his tablet, and suddenly all eyes were on Sheppard. "That'd be a minimum of five days' travel- or four Protegan days- given the topography of Alpha continent, if we didn't have injuries."

"We'll make it," John said calmly. "We'll break camp as soon as possible in the morning. It's not like we have to walk all the way there; we'll hit an outlying power station or military base well before we reach the city, there'll be working comms there."

None of his teammates looked assuaged, but it was either that or stay put and just hope they'd be found eventually. Ronon packed away their unused gear and left to stow it for the night. Returning from the jumper he handed something small and crackly to Sheppard.

John turned the small packet over in his hands. Two oxycodone pills, still in their individual sealed bubbles. "No," John said.

"You've got last watch, you may as well get some decent sleep now," Ronon said in an undertone.

"And if something happens and I'm spaced out on morphine?" Sheppard pressed.

Ronon crossed his arms. "The stuff barely effects you in that way."

"No," John repeated emphatically.

Ronon stared down at him. Their gazes remained locked for one minute... two minutes... three minutes...

"Fine." Sheppard relented. "I'll take _one_."

"Good boy." Ronon sat back down, this time with his back turned to the fire, taking up sentry.

John downed one of the blasted pills then retired to his tent. Rodney and Teyla mimicked, crawling into their respective tents. Once inside, Sheppard shrugged out of his tac vest, ditching his belt, thigh holster, and boots for good measure, then tried to get as comfortable as he could under the flimsy thermal blanket, opting to lie on top of his sleeping bag because it wasn't really that cold. Knowing his pistol was out of ammo, John placed his combat knife near his head, still sheathed, but within easy reach.

He watched the still silhouette of Ronon, sitting alert, and waited for the pain meds to kick in before he finally drifted to sleep.


	12. Beauty

John was awoken by rustling outside his tent. He continued to breath deeply, steadily, his hand moving subtly to his knife's hilt and griping it firmly.

A hand pulled down the entrance's zipper, and Sheppard relaxed his grip as Rodney stuck his head through.

"Your turn," the physicist said, then smothered a yawn. "I've seen a couple of life signs on the scanner, but the fire seems to keep them from getting too curious."

"Good to know." Sheppard sat up, and man did his now tight core muscles have a whine about that. As Rodney withdrew from the entrance, Sheppard put his boots back on, grabbed his vest and holster, then followed.

As John pulled his vest back on, he noted the fire had been built lower, more conservatively than when they were using it for cooking. He guessed Ronon had done that. Even though Rodney had learned much about the whole outdoors-camping business, John doubted McKay would've had the foresight to rearrange the fire.

John lightly stretched his arms out and nodded at Rodney, who passed over his LSD and muttered a 'goodnight'. As McKay climbed into his own tent, Sheppard gently flexed his legs, trying to get his blood flowing, to help pump the oxycodone out of his system. With a sigh, he checked his Life Signs Detector for any nearby signatures, then broadened the range to find the nearest emergency cache.

The device beeped, and John suppressed another sigh. Five and a half klicks. Normally, he wouldn't blink at that distance, but he wasn't exactly up to full strength.

_I just hope this is all worth it._

Sure, they had destroyed the hive, and he'd be happy with that, but he worried about the cruiser that got away. Still, there was no point moping about it. He had to focus on the things he _could_ take action on. They'd find out about the rest when they made it back to the city.

He sat down, back toward the fire, and tilted his head back to look up at the starry night sky. This far out from the city, with no light pollution, the nebula reigned supreme, dominating the sky with its colourful whorls, streaking this way and that with no rhyme or reason. The deep blue canvas of its backdrop was littered with hundreds of thousands of stars, shining bright, peeking through the gold, purple, and aqua gasses. Maybe it was worth it, if only to see the natural beauty above him.

As entrancing as the view was, John tore his gaze away from it, instead keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. The Protegan fireteams that spent their time chasing predators away from the populace had a saying: 'the prettier the view is, the more likely there's an animal waiting to kill you.' While he drew comfort from the fact that nothing had attacked them so far, he wasn't about to let himself grow complacent.

As dawn slowly broke across the eastern horizon, paling the sky and nebula, Sheppard dutifully kept watch. Getting up a few times to check on Teyla and stretch out in the warm, almost stuffy air alleviated some of the boredom, but a boring watch was better than an eventful one. A light breeze arose with the sun, rustling the long grass and stirring the trees. John inhaled, the change welcome, then decided the sun was truly rising, and woke his sleeping teammates.

They shared a miserly breakfast of MREs, letting the fire finally die out. They then returned to the crashed jumper to figure out which supplies they'd need the most, and how much they should carry between them.

Despite the inordinate amount of weaponry stored aboard the ship, they had pretty much cleaned out all their lighter arms. Having no P90 ammo and hardly any for their side arms worried John, but they could hardly cart around either of their anti-air AT4 rocket launchers.

"Rodney, you take the pistol mags," Sheppard decided.

Rodney raised a hand. "Umm, hi? Worst shot here."

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Sheppard agreed. "But Teyla has a concussion that I'd like to keep an eye on a little while longer and I really can't cope with having the holster on my bullet wound."

Rodney raised his other hand, both now palm-up. "So just stick it in your vest or something."

"Rodney," John said, "I can still use my knife with lethal accuracy if need be. So can Teyla. If something attacks us what are you going to do? Complain at it?"

"Oh," Rodney said, considering John's words. "Right, well, I could take the pistol."

"Thank-you." Sheppard handed McKay the weapon. "There should be a supply of Protegan armarvas at each cache, so hopefully we can make it that far without any dramas."

"I'd prefer to make it all the way to the city without any dramas," McKay commented.

"Hope for the best, plan for the worst," John quipped.

"And if that isn't the motto of the Pegasus galaxy..." McKay muttered.

"Alright," Sheppard said, looking at their sorted supplies, "I'm gonna say hands-free. We'll only take what can go in our vests and backpacks. Let's get the first aid kit repacked first, then prioritise water, then food."

"And if we're gonna be keeping a watch every night, which, face it, we have to, then we only really need three tents," Rodney added.

Sheppard nodded. "Good point. So if we're only bringing three tents we'll only need three sleeping bags as well."

"I think the three of us," Rodney pointed at Ronon, Teyla, and himself, "should carry those."

"No, I'll take one set," Sheppard said absentmindedly, "that way Ronon can take... oh." He broke off after catching the look his teammates were giving him. Staring at their determined faces, he decided to pick his battles. "Fine."

"Good," Ronon said, then started packing his bag with all the heaviest gear. Teyla and Rodney joined him, quickly stowing the bulkiest items, leaving John nothing but lightweight luggage.

"It's just logic," Rodney quipped as he gave John a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Unable to decide if he was more moved or irritated by his team's concern, Sheppard huffed a sigh, then kneeled to pack his allocated gear.

As he pulled on his backpack and stood, he felt the half-empty pack bounce. "Feels like I'm carrying nothing but air," John grumbled.

Ronon shrugged, and his pack seemed less-than-full too. "Yeah well, we needed to leave some space for when we get to the emergency cache."

AR-1 drifted towards each other without thinking about it, forming a loose circle.

"Everyone good to go?" John asked.

McKay sighed. "Let's just get this over with."

Smirking at Rodney's martyred expression, Sheppard struck out, leading his team to Ronon's scouted route through the dry forest.

As Ronon had warned them while they ate dinner last night, the trees hid the hilly terrain from an outside view. With little breeze between the sparse, spiny vegetation, and treacherous, loose grit underfoot, the going was hard. John's thigh was soon burning, and he seemed to be sweating more than he should be. They were hardly ten minutes in when Ronon called them to a break.

When Sheppard turned to glare at the Satedan, Ronon wordlessly handed over a water bottle and wandered off from the group. Rodney, Teyla, and John stood at a loss, until Ronon returned shortly after with a strong branch, tall enough to be used as a walking stick.

"I'm fine, Ronon," Sheppard insisted.

"Just take it," Ronon said, shoving the branch into his hands.

John frowned, but tested his weight on the stick. When it held, he shrugged to himself. As long as they all got back in one piece, right?

Their progress improved with John's improvised crutch, though they continued to burn through their water supply in an attempt to stay hydrated. The constant guzzling of fluids necessitated additional stops, as they followed the directions on John's LSD.

Still, the team had been in worse situations before. Despite the dry heat and browned plant life, the Protegan wilderness had a very untamed beauty, and John couldn't help but think how pleasant their hike would be if he wasn't injured. He was actually pretty sure that fact was the only thing stopping McKay from keeping up a constant stream of complaints, so there was a silver lining even in that.

Well, the physicist was still throwing out the occasional complaint.

"Seriously though what is with this heat?" Rodney whined.

John rolled his eyes, then spoke over his shoulder. "Alpha continent is in its dry season, McKay."

"The Wraith sure chose the most inconvenient time to get us stranded out here," Rodney muttered.

"Maybe you should leave a review on their Planetary Invasion page," Sheppard drawled, "'please try to eat us during better weather cycles, we'd like to celebrate under ideal conditions when we kick your ass.'"

"That _would_ be nice of them," Rodney agreed.

John shook his head. "On the bright side, at least we're not camping in the rain."

McKay lapsed back into silence and John shrugged. They continued in single file, pausing when they reached the end of Ronon's scout, so that the former Runner could take the lead. Ronon kept dashing ahead, returning often to guide the team around obstacles he didn't think John should tackle. Every time he took off, John watched Ronon's life sign carefully, worried some predator might decide to pick a fight.

Despite the challenges, they made good time. Sure, John had a splitting headache, since it made total sense for his body to let him know he was in pain by adding _more_ pain to the mix, but the constant help from his team eased the passage of time. Maybe it was a bit annoying to be coddled so much, but his frustration was purely because the assistance was necessary.

When they arrived at the cache location, they were confused to find nothing. McKay threw up his hands, then snatched the LSD off Sheppard.

"Are you sure you've been reading this right?"

"It's a Life Signs Detector, McKay, there's not much to interpret," John drawled.

Frowning, Rodney shook the device. "Maybe Atheon programmed it wrong, or the coordinates are out of date."

"It's here," Ronon said with confidence, "it's just not in plain sight."

Looking around carefully, Sheppard smiled. "There's a blind there," he said, pointing over at a cluster of trees.

Ronon nodded with a grunt, already on his way to check it out.

"Huh, I didn't even think of that," McKay muttered as he moved closer to the now-obvious structure. Approaching the blind, Rodney appeared to be mimicked by a doppelgänger... until one realised the mirror, marred by rust and blurred with water marks.

As Ronon signalled an all-clear, Teyla and John made their way to the blind, circling around the three-sided, mirror-covered front to the back, where they were met by bare concrete. From this angle, the blind appeared as three walls creating slight curvature, and an angled roof sheltering a safe.

Rodney marched up to the safe's interface, scanning it with John's LSD. "Give me a moment to hack-"

Ignoring him, John pushed past the physicist, pulling open his upper right vest pocket. From there, he produced a silver ball-chain, dangling on which was his Identification Chip. He gently placed the exposed crystal into the safe's receiving slot, and the device beeped affirmatively.

"Like I said, Atheon got us unrestricted access to all caches."

"You actually didn't say that, at least not in so many words," Rodney sniped.

John stared blankly at Rodney, just to annoy him, while the emergency cache opened behind him. "Be. Our. Guest."

Rodney groaned. "Don't sing, please don't."

They quickly rifled through the emergency supplies, grabbing three of the bulky Protegan pistols and plenty of ammo for them, as well as all the bottled water. At the rate they'd been going through their own supplies, they'd need refills daily, and there were very few clean water sources on the continent during the dry months.

Rodney tried the comm equipment hopefully, but their bad luck in that area held out.

"Useless junk!" Rodney said with surprising anger, hurling the device at the blind, where it bounced off the concrete.

"I guess they haven't fixed all the comm relays the insurgents took out," Sheppard figured. "Good thing this is military-grade equipment or you might have busted it," he said as he picked up the comm unit, stowing it in his vest pocket.

"Sheppard, we've got everything useful," Ronon commented.

Teyla nodded, then sat down with casual grace. "This is as good a place to rest as any."

"Agreed." John joined her, moving more stiffly. He peered out at the colourful sky. "Looks like getting here took most of the day. We'll need to find somewhere to set up camp."

"We can shelter here, better than anywhere else," Teyla pointed out.

Ronon shrugged, but McKay nodded. "We won't need to set up the tents, or wander around looking for a clearing to set up in... I'll go get the firewood."

Teyla smiled. "Thank-you, Rodney. I shall help."

She stood, and together they started scouting for good branches. With a sigh, Ronon left too. Sheppard picked up the LSD Rodney had abandoned in his frustration, and watched as one of the three moving lifesigns wandered around in concentric circles. John figured the Satedan was checking the immediate area. He tried to stand back up, pushing his weight on his stick, but as he stretched to full height, his thigh screamed a warning just as it collapsed under him.

John gave a startled yelp of pain as he fell onto his right knee, jarring the wound further. He heard Teyla call his name, then a tide of red agony consumed his vision and he passed out.


	13. A Bird in the Hand

Tension.

Somewhere, John knew, there was stress. Voices drifted to him.

_"Can't you-"_

_"I do not know what I am doing, this method of treatment is not familiar!"_

Pain.

So much of it, John was bewildered. What had happened?

_"How much worse can you really make this?"_

_"Do not pressure me, Rodney. I need to be sure of my decision."_

Calm.

A third voice, steady and steeling.

_"Teyla..."_

_"Yes. Yes, I can do this. Hold him still."_

A resurgence of agony. The pain brought memory with it. A wilting heat, bleak landscape- or was it their outlook that was bleak? There was laughter under the trees, dumb humour exchanged between friends, born of shared struggles and triumphs. As soon as these memories came, they left, pushed out by the same pain that dragged them in. John wanted them back.

_"Rodney hold him!"_

_"You're hurting him!"_

An accusation. That was wrong, a team should stand together.

_"He's getting agitated."_

_"Yes, I can see that, just hold him still a while longer."_

_"Will you hurry up?"_

_"Would you like to do this McKay?"_

_"Uhh... no, Teyla seems to have it covered."_

Suddenly, ice cold sensation drowned the fiery pain. It felt familiar, then it felt like nothing. But that was familiar too. How odd.

Darkness gave way to muted crimson, which drew back like stage curtains, then John realised he was awake.

He found himself lying on the ground, held on his side by Ronon, who was watching Teyla work over John's right thigh, propped up on his left leg. Rodney stood against the blind wall, looking vaguely queasy.

"Hi, guys," John quipped. "Wanna let me up?"

"In a moment, Colonel," Teyla said without looking at him. There was a sound like whipped cream leaving a pressurised can, then she glanced up at Ronon. "Keep him steady for a minute while that sets."

"Is that it?" Rodney asked incredulously. "Just point and spray?"

"The foam is the easy part, Doctor McKay," Teyla said. "I was concerned about using the cryo, as it is much more difficult to apply."

"Hah, 'Doctor McKay.' You really pissed her off," John muttered.

"That goes double for you, Colonel," Teyla snapped.

That wiped the grin off John's face.

"So... where are we at?" Sheppard asked after a moment of silence.

Rodney huffed an irritated sigh. "We were trying to get camp set up when you tore that damn bullet wound wide open. Teyla said its worse now than ever."

"Oops."

Three livid sets of eyes met him, and John frowned. "Well it's not like I did it on purpose!" he protested.

"No, you're right," McKay agreed, "it's not your fault you're an idiot."

"Sticks and stones, Rodney."

McKay shook his head and left, wandering the immediate area while gathering sticks and branches off the ground.

Teyla kept her eyes on her watch for a while longer, then looked up at Ronon. "That should be long enough, you can help the Colonel sit up now."

Ronon nodded, keeping one hand bracing John while reaching out the other to the pilot.

John accepted the Satedan's hand, and allowed Ronon to pull him up into a sitting position. "At least it doesn't hurt anymore," John said, hoping to begin reconciliation.

"Teyla found wound cryo and bio-chem filler in the Protegan field kit," Ronon explained.

Sheppard considered this. "Oh. So when the cryo wears off-"

"-It's going to be worse than after the crash," Ronon finished for him.

With a clap on the shoulder, Ronon left John to brood on that, going back to his perimeter check. Teyla stayed in the blind with John, re-packing the first aid kit.

Rodney and Ronon returned together, each with armfuls of firewood, and they had a fire going not long after. As the sun set was hastened by the towering trees around them, they ate a quiet dinner. The team sat up around the fire in the dark forest after they finished eating, and the quiet soon turned to jokes and conversation, staying up later than they should have. It was easy to forget that they were stranded in the wilderness when the light of their campfire was so cheerful.

After agreeing to repeat the watch shift of the previous night, they finally turned in, lying close up against the wall of the blind while Ronon sat at the open end, gazing out protectively at the shrouded forest.

* * *

They broke camp early in the morning, Sheppard having roused everyone before the rising sun had broken through the trees. Once more following John's LSD, they made for the next emergency cache on the way to the city.

At Teyla's insistence, John continued using his improvised walking stick. Ronon resumed his scouting role, and Rodney kept up a steady stream of complaints, somehow knowing the best moment to strike the most irritation into his teammates. John was sure to retaliate with his most witty jabs, which Teyla tolerated in good nature, an amused if exasperated expression gracing her features.

Time dragged by under the dry foliage, and the going didn't get any easier. John could feel fatigue creeping up on him earlier than normal. He was sure Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla were starting to struggle too. The long days and nights were wearing them down, slowly but surely.

After reaching the second cache and restocking their supplies again, they took a short break for lunch, and everyone moved stiffly when it was time to get going again. Half the problem was the water situation- despite their best efforts, there wasn't enough water to keep them properly hydrated under the dry, baking heat. They had crossed several landmarks that suggested the passage of water, but each had been as devoid of liquid as the compacted dirt.

As John knew from Protegan Wilderness Survival one-oh-one, unless you dug in a few, very select locations, it was nearly impossible to find water during the planet's dry season. Not even the trees had deep enough roots to reach the water trapped deep below the earth, so there was no point trying to tap those. Protegan officers had really drilled that message into Sheppard's men during the War Games. If it weren't for the sealed bottles stowed in the emergency caches, they'd be royally screwed.

That night they found a small clearing with just enough space for them to safely set up camp. Teyla and John debated over her state of healing, and eventually John conceded to Teyla joining the watch shifts. Ronon, for his part, made sure he was still taking first watch, presumably so he could drag his out, shortening everyone else's. And Rodney said John was the self-sacrificing idiot.

Well, maybe he was. Having had difficulty sleeping, John had spelled McKay early, and the physicist had been too tired to protest. Now John stared up at the rainbow sky, monitoring his LSD out of the corner of his eye, wishing for even a wisp of cloud, anything to raise the humidity level a bit. Living on an ocean planet, in the coolly regulated corridors of Atlantis seemed to have turned him soft. He chuckled ruefully, thinking of all his desert survival experience. Protegat's weather had somehow thrown that all out the window. What was it about this planet that made their journey so difficult?

It wasn't just his injury, John was certain. His team were just as worn as him, and none of them had been shot recently. There was always the crash, and the days of tension predating the Wraith attack, plus the thirty-hour day cycles, but still...

As the sky finally started to lighten, though the trees kept things wrapped in shadow at ground level, John sighed. It didn't matter _why_ they felt like they were being ground into the dirt, so long as they managed not to get crushed. Obsessing about unknowable factors would not help.

John was startled from his reverie when a dark shape suddenly alighted in the tallest tree bordering the clearing.

Alerted by John's surprised exclamation, Ronon ducked out of his tent, blaster raised, then hesitated. John picked himself up off the dirt, and together they stared up at the large shadow as the first rays of the sun touched the creature.

Teyla and Rodney crawled out of their individual tents, to see what all the fuss was about. They followed Ronon and John's line of sight and joined their teammates. As they watched the giant bird, it gazed back at them in evident curiosity.

After a moment of silent consideration, Rodney spoke. "Looks like the bird Atidum modelled its avatar on."

John nodded. "I didn't think Quadwing Phoenixes got that... big."

The bird was nearly a metre tall, mottled brown in coloration, with a sharp, hooked beak and two feathery crests on its head. Its yellow eyes were intelligent, and as it stretched, it revealed its namesake; two massive pairs of feathered wings flexed, showing off its two wingspans of roughly two metres and one and a half metres. As it settled again, it shuffled in place, bouncing its weight from one foot to the other, then gave a short, sharp whistle.

"Hunt? Home?" it asked in a croaky, inflectionless voice, only mimicking speech.

"The bird must be domesticated," Sheppard murmured.

"Who would teach their pet murder bird to say 'hunt'?" Rodney asked.

"Protegan farmers often use quadwings to hunt small animals that eat up their crops," Teyla explained. "Many of the refugees that came to work in agriculture were taught how to handle these birds."

Rodney looked sceptical. "So now the overgrown mutant eagle is a mouser?"

John shrugged, "Well, if we leave it be-"

The phoenix gave another sharp whistle, then swooped down softly from the tree, landing ten metres out from them, hopping closer along the ground.

"-Or not." John said, as the bird cocked its head to one side, staring up at him. "Any ideas, Teyla?"

"Please tell me you sat in on some of the training," Rodney muttered.

Teyla seemed to consider the phoenix for a moment, before mimicking the whistle it had used to get their attention. It wasn't perfect, but it did the trick, as the bird locked on to Teyla, stalking closer to her and away from John. Its head came up just short of Teyla's hips.

"So you did learn how to handle them," Rodney assumed.

Teyla shook her head. "I just guessed that it would use its summoning whistle to get us to listen to it."

"Oh," Rodney said. "Right, that seems logical."

"Sheppard," Ronon interrupted, "if that thing's domesticated, there must be a farm nearby."

John nodded. "And if there's a farm, there'll be some sort of water supply."

"Umm, hi?" Rodney said with a sarcastic wave. "We have no idea how far this thing's hunting range is, or what direction it came from."

"No," John agreed, "but it did ask us if it should hunt or go home. We can follow it back to the homestead."

Rodney sighed. "That's assuming we can even figure out the bird's learned commands."

"Teyla?" John asked.

Teyla had not looked away from the bird, who appeared hyper-focused on the Athosian, shifting its weight with every minute movement Teyla made. "Find home," Teyla said, enunciating each word carefully, mimicking the Protegan accent.

The phoenix gave two short whistles, then launched up into the air, gliding around the clearing in concentric circles on an invisible air current.

"Looks like we have a guide," John said happily.

"But can we get it to wait around while we have breakfast?" Rodney questioned.

Sheppard considered this. "We really should eat before we go. Like the man said, we don't know how far to the homestead."

Teyla repeated the first whistle, and the quadwing dropped immediately into a sharp dive. AR-1 scattered, as the bird aimed directly at them. Their movement seemed to confuse the creature, which snapped out its four wings abruptly, pulling sharply out of the dive mere feet from the ground, and landed softly before staring at them warily.

On the fringes of the clearing, the team returned its cautious gaze, but the phoenix merely ruffled its feathers, then took to following Teyla around, hopping along the ground comically. Shrugging it off, Teyla started digging through their supplies for their rationed MREs, her feathered admirer watching curiously.

They ate with their strange new companion picking its way around the clearing, inspecting their single-man tents and backpacks, keeping a wary distance from them once it found one of their borrowed armarvas.

Finished with its search, the quadwing took great interest in their food. As intimidating as the big bird looked, its attempts at being sneaky were more annoying than anything, though John had to laugh when, finding the direct approach didn't work, it picked up a stone out of the dirt, tossed it near Rodney to distract him, then quickly snatched a strip of tough, chewy meat masquerading as bacon from Rodney's MRE. Dancing out of the way of the physicist's hand as he reached out to try and reclaim the food, the phoenix glided across the clearing, skimming along the ground, before settling to tear the meat apart in one foot and eat it.

"Clever bird, aren't you?" John commented, but shut up at the sight of Rodney's indignant expression.

They packed up quickly, Teyla cautious of the dog-sized bird constantly getting under her feet. Hefting their packs back onto their shoulders, keeping their borrowed side-arms tucked carefully into their vests, the team prepared to set out again. As John grabbed his walking branch in his already-calloused hand, Teyla whistled sharply.

The phoenix stopped hopping around, and the small lizard it had been chasing through the dirt scurried to safety. Staring attentively at Teyla, the bird stalked closer.

"Find home," Teyla commanded, and the phoenix spread its four wings, launching into the air with a powerful downstroke. It quickly gained altitude, beating its wings fiercely while flying in place, before taking up a circular soaring pattern. The bird then leaned off to the west, leaving the rising sun behind it.

AR-1 followed it, plunging into the trees once more, where it was harder to keep eyes on the bird. The phoenix had no troubles it seemed, as it chattered happily at them, muttering random phrases like 'clever bird' and 'fierce flight!'. None of it made sense to any of them.

It also appeared to enjoy being the leader, as even though they were headed almost due west, it screeched angrily whenever Ronon tried to do a scouting run. This meant they had to waste time finding ways around the many natural obstacles the forest presented. At least the constant noise meant even when they couldn't _see_ the bird, they always knew where it was, drifting along overhead.

Eventually they were able to see a break in the trees ahead, and emerged at the far end of a field filled with rows of low shrubs. Spotting a familiar grid of poles lining the field, Sheppard held up a hand. As the team came to a standstill, the phoenix landed in the trees above them, watching hawkishly. John approached the nearest post, feeling the bird's eyes follow him, and pulled his ID chip out from his vest pocket, then knelt beside the pole.

Remembering how Soldier Elderera had pulled open a panel to disarm the electric grid around Installation One-Three, John's fingers searched the smooth metal until he found a fissure. A quick application of pressure and the panel came open. He raked his eyes over the inner workings, and found the receiving slot, which he slid the ID chip's crystal into.

After a moment of silence, the system gave an affirmative beep, and John cautiously extended a hand, testing the field was down. When he didn't receive enough volts to put him flat on his back, John reclaimed the chip and led his team into the field. The phoenix chirped brightly, flying ahead to land near a building on the opposite end of the field. With an odd feeling like he had just passed some sort of test, John and his team set out, walking in single file along the narrow space in between the hedges.

"Ugh, the heat's even worse out of the trees," Rodney complained.

Sheppard shrugged. "Well, we might not be in the shade anymore, but at least if there's a breeze we'll feel it."

"The key word being 'if'," McKay muttered.

There were other benefits to walking through the farmland, though. The ground was perfectly flat and even, with no roots sticking up to trip them. It was nice to be able to take a straight path, too, and not have to weave among trees and boulders. They didn't stop at their normal lunch time, as they were about half-way through the field by then, and estimated that they'd have crossed it in another twenty minutes. Rodney was not happy with this plan, grouching from behind John as he led his team.

"McKay, don't eat that," Ronon suddenly said from their six.

John glanced over his shoulder to see what the fuss was, and caught Rodney raising some sort of fruit to his mouth. "Rodney!"

McKay lowered the fruit. "What? I need to keep my blood-sugar up," the physicist protested.

Teyla spoke from behind McKay, "It is unseemingly rude to steal from an orchard."

Rodney shrugged. "We saved their butt along with everyone else on the planet, this is how they're saying thanks."

"Oh sure," John said amicably. "I mean, I have no idea whether or not that's citrus they're growing, but that's your lookout."

They walked in silence a few more paces, then Rodney sighed, and the fist-sized fruit could be heard dropping to the ground.

"There's a good boy," John said with a smirk. The quadwing pealed in the distance. "Not you," he muttered.

"Of course, the fruit's going to waste now," McKay grumbled.

"McKay, this stuff isn't even ripe yet," Ronon said.

"Huh?"

"If the fruit was ripe, it would be beginning to fall off the bushes," Teyla explained, "but none of it is."

"Oh, whatever, let's just get to the house so we can have lunch already."

As they got closer to the homestead, they could distinguish two separate buildings; a sprawling, three-story house built in typical Protegan architecture, and a less elegant concrete barn of sorts. They crossed directly out of the field into a small yard outside the barn, finding the doors unlocked, standing open. Though a large driveway led away from the barn and field, into the forest, there were no vehicles lying around, because that would be much too convenient.

Surrounding the house's yard was a low stone-work fence, which John vaulted over. Teyla sighed irritably, then she and Ronon crossed the fence with similar ease, while Rodney slowly swung himself over it.

The large, modern styled house was built on a foundation maybe half a metre tall, a foundation which extended out the front to form a covered, spacious porch. This porch had no railing, a strip of stairs, and durable-looking furniture arranged around a small fire pit. Pushed up against the wall was a large raised tray, over which a thick tree branch presided, where the phoenix was currently perched, preening its feathers. As they ascended the short flight of stairs, the bird looked up at them, then tapped an empty metal dish wedged in a fork in the branch.

John glanced around quickly, and spotted a small crate tucked under the tray.

The tree branch shook as the bird bobbed excitedly, watching Sheppard kneel and drag the crate out. Opening it, John found a few different sized bottles that looked vaguely medical, a fluffy toy of some sort, and a zip-locked bag. John unzipped this bag, and found small chunks of dried meat. He stood and tipped a small measure of the treats into the phoenix's dish, snatching his hand out of the way in haste.

But the phoenix proved more patient than that, chirping happily, yet gazing at John as though waiting. Unsure what might be the bird's usual 'okay' command, John settled for making his voice as reassuring as possible. "Go on, then."

As the quadwing dug in, relishing each small bite, John turned his attention back to the house itself.

Large stained glass windows dominated the smooth white concrete walls. John thought the artwork must be a stylised depiction of the night sky, the colouring reminiscent of the nebula. The front door continued this trend, but had no visible locking mechanism. Ronon jumped down off the porch just as McKay waved John closer to the door.

As Ronon wandered around the back and Teyla kept her eyes on the driveway where it faded into the trees, John and Rodney stared at the door.

"I'm getting energy readings," Rodney said, brandishing his LSD. "I think..."

John waited for Rodney to finish his sentence as the physicist tapped at the screen.

"Okay, I'm sure _that_-" he pointed to a trio of glowing crystals set into the wall, looking much like a porch light, "-is a scanner. Like the door scanners in the city. Obviously it's not military grade but it should still accept one of our chips."

Nodding, Sheppard pulled his chip and tested it, holding it up against the scanner like he would in the city. The house was silent for a moment, seeming to take longer to register the ID chip than the Protectorate Facility or High Command, then chimed. The door slid open smoothly and a breath of cool air swirled out.

John scuffed his boots as best he could on the door mat, then stepped inside. The interior was open-floor; a living area, dining table, and kitchen all set separately in the same spacious room. With Rodney and Teyla following, John beelined for the kitchen, quickly clicking his radio to get Ronon's attention. "Ronon, we got the door open."

_"Nothing around the back, coming back to you."_

John slid his backpack off, digging out all the empty water bottles they had kept in the hopes of finding somewhere to refill them. As he started filling the first bottle from the filtered tap, he had a sudden thought. "McKay, don't touch anything."

Rodney looked indignant. "I wasn't going to."

"Good, because we're filthy. All we need here is the water, and as nice as it would be to take advantage of all the homey comforts here, let's be courteous guests."

"Can we at least have showers?"

John shook his head. "That's a vehement no. Not during the dry season."

McKay grumbled under his breath, and part of John agreed with him. The grime hadn't really bothered him, at least until he stepped inside. Teyla gave him a wan smile, understanding and supportive, yet no happier about it herself. Ronon ducked through the door then, dragging his boots over the mat before coming in to help refill their bottles, after which they drank their fill, and topped up the bottles again.

With their packs considerably heavier, they reluctantly left the cool house, and propped their backpacks against the back of the outdoor sofa. The door closed behind them, though John somehow knew it hadn't locked itself yet. As the porch furniture was already scuffed and worn, they didn't feel as weird about using it, and they settled into the sofa and armchairs while they ate their lunch ration.

The quadwing ate the last morsel of its treats, scrounged in the dish as though more might miraculously appear, then deflated a little. Leaning forward, it gazed curiously at AR-1, raising then lowering its head. "Hunt?"

Sheppard considered the bird. "I wonder if it's hungry? It doesn't really look like the farmers feed it though."

Teyla looked thoughtful. "I imagine its main food source are the pests it hunts. Perhaps we should send it out, and it may feed itself."

"You're the one it listens to," John said with a smile.

Teyla returned that smile. "Hunt," she said in an encouraging tone.

The bird gave two short whistles, and took off swiftly.

As they watched it soar over the fields, circling slowly, John spoke, "Y'know, that bird has grown on me."

* * *

The unanimous decision was to spend the night at the homestead, taking the afternoon off to rest. With a clear path to follow, taking the form of the driveway and road it would eventually join, Sheppard was optimistic about tomorrow. After quickly setting up the bare necessities for the night, laying their sleeping bags out in the barn, they relaxed into the sofa and armchairs on the porch. There they watched the phoenix soar gracefully around the property, before diving suddenly, pulling back up into the air with some small creature grasped in its talons.

The bird ate its kill up high in a tree, then returned to its perch at the house. Ronon had found an unused metal dish, given it a quick wash, then secured it on the bird's branch, and filled it with water. The phoenix drank gratefully while John and Rodney bickered over how strict drought rules should be.

Teyla interrupted their debate when the sun began to set, getting up reluctantly to arrange kindling and wood in the fire pit. Sheppard stood immediately, moving to help her while Ronon dug their rations out of their packs.

They ate dinner without much enthusiasm, as even McKay was getting sick of MREs. To raise morale a bit, John started play-acting, setting the scene for a beautiful banquet, praising the chef's skilled roast duck. No-one seemed to buy into the story he was selling, but as far as breaking the exhausted silence, it did the trick. Rodney's exasperated slap-down had Teyla and Ronon laughing, and John joined in, unable to keep a straight face any longer.

At that moment, Teyla's eyes went round, her head snapping up, looking above her shoulder. Recognising her expression, Sheppard's laughter abruptly died. He felt his own expression rearrange to match the horror in Teyla's voice as she spoke the words to destroy their happy mood.

"Wraith. Hundreds of them."


	14. On the Run

Sheppard leapt to his feet. "We have to move! Get away from the farm- hide in the forest."

Ronon was already running for the barn; disappearing for a moment, then reappearing with their bedrolls in hand. Rodney had his LSD out, scanning the immediate area. "We're clear for now."

"Teyla, how far out?" Sheppard yelled, helping Ronon pack their supplies.

Teyla shook her head. "I cannot say." She grabbed the lid for the fire pit, smothering the flames of their small fire.

Finished packing, John stood. "Rodney, eyes on the life-signs, we're gonna have to move fast."

"What about the bird?" Teyla asked.

"It can look after itself, or the owners wouldn't have left it out here," Sheppard answered. "We've gotta go, now!"

"Stay," Teyla said firmly as the phoenix roused, stretching its wings as though to follow them.

They hefted their backpacks, and headed north-west at a brisk pace, travelling towards the forest. There was no way they'd chance the open road with wraith around. Sheppard deactivated the electric grid once more, and they delved back into the trees. The phoenix pealed mournfully behind them.

Their ragged, uneven breaths were too loud in the quiet forest. Each twig snapped underfoot was as loud as a gunshot to their ears, as they strained to hear the first darts. But the silence was absolute, the only sound was that of their passage through the thick, half-dead trees.

Rather than relief, John only felt tension. Teyla had never been wrong, so why did it seem there was no danger?

"McKay, how far out is the next cache?" Sheppard whispered.

"Hold on," Rodney muttered. The LSD beeped loudly in the still night, as Rodney swapped from scanning life-signs to the Protegan map. "Two klicks, due north."

"Sheppard?" Ronon prompted when John was silent.

"We need the ammo," John said after a moment. "Let's go."

Having left the walking stick back at the farm, Sheppard was able to move faster. It was a mark of how unsettled Teyla was that neither she nor Ronon gave John any crap about it. With the cryo and foam still in place, his leg worked well enough, and that was what was needed, as they followed the most direct path they could to the cache.

When they had stocked up on weapons at the first emergency cache they found, they hadn't really expected to need the guns. They had taken them as a precaution; the only threats in the Protegan wilderness were harpies, drakes, and jaculus. John had hoped the Hive's complete destruction would have been enough to scare off the rest of the Wraith; but Protegat presented either too much of a threat or too great a feast for them to ignore. Damn every last one of them to hell.

It took over thirty minutes for them to reach the cache, weighed down by their packs and forced to scurry across the uneven ground. It was built into a large memorial statue depicting a Protegan fireteam, the inscription naming them as Fireteam Traskt.

_To fall in service is to rise in ascension, _

_To fight fear is to give courage._

_Through passing we achieve immortality,_

_Today, tomorrow, forever._

_9834, DA._

Sheppard stared for a moment at the faces set in carved stone, then helped Rodney find the access for the cache. Once they had it open, John took a second armarva from the supplies, but discouraged Rodney from following suit. The Protegan side-arms had a bit more kick than the pistols McKay was used to, and while John had taken the time to practice dual-wielding the large handguns, Rodney had no chance to control the recoil without both hands.

Teyla stuffed as many ammo magazines in her vest as she could while John and Rodney did the same, completely clearing out the cache in that regard. Sheppard glanced at the impetus cartridges, and spared a second to wish the Protegan military kept those rifles stocked in the caches as well. In truth, he was just missing his P90.

They stood in a loose circle, waiting. Rodney was fiddling with John's LSD again, while the Colonel held McKay's LSD, watching for life-signs. Sighing, the physicist suddenly dropped his backpack, then retrieved his tablet from inside it. He sat down in the dirt for a moment, switching between the LSD and tablet rapidly in his tweaking, trying to figure out if it was quicker to head for the city or the nearest military base. Sheppard wanted to spend as little time as possible caught out in the wilderness while the Wraith rallied over their heads.

Finally, Rodney spoke. "The city is the closest. We've covered about twenty-three kilometres as the crow flies. We're still twenty-seven klicks out, but the nearest outlying installation is forty-nine klicks south of here."

John nodded. "Okay, we'll continue to make our way to the city. But for now, we need to hole up for the night- there's not enough light to safely travel by."

Even though the shattered moon was at its full, even with the combined glow from the nebula, it was too dark to see the ground beneath the trees properly. It would really hinder their hiking efforts if one of them tripped and broke a leg... or their neck.

Ronon nodded, and took off his backpack, setting it against the memorial statue. "I'll take first watch." The former Runner pushed himself up, sitting on the statue's base, and pulled out his blaster.

"I will take the second," Teyla said, placing her pack next to Ronon's.

Rodney yawned, but stretched a hand up. "Third." He then pushed his pack closer to the statue, grabbed his sleeping bag, and huddled against the tall stone base.

"Fourth," John muttered.

Watching Rodney fall asleep almost immediately, John frowned. It was unlike McKay to drop out like that, at least not when they were roughing it. As he and Teyla pulled out their own sleeping bags, John resolved to do something about it.

"Hey, Teyla?" Sheppard whispered, careful not to wake McKay as they lay near him. "After your watch, wake me instead of McKay, alright? We'll make it a three-shift instead of a four. Rodney needs the rest."

Teyla gave the physicist a worried glance. "I agree, I have rarely seen him so worn."

"It's hard to tell under the vest, but I think he's lost weight," John continued in the same hushed tone.

"I am certain we all have." Teyla eyed John critically.

"If you two are just going to stay up gossiping, I might as well sleep the whole night too," Ronon grumbled from his new perch.

Sheppard rolled his head back to stare at Ronon. "Okay mom." He closed his eyes and shuffled into a more comfortable position before the Satedan could respond.

John woke suddenly, unable to remember falling asleep. A quick glance around showed Ronon awake, in a predatory crouch next to him, glaring up at the sky. Teyla reflected Ronon's tense position, only she was up on the statue where the Satedan had been when John had dozed off.

He realised he had leapt to a similar posture, as he turned his head to stare up at the coloured night sky too. He heard again the noise that had woken him, that had triggered an adrenaline spike in his blood, had prompted his body to prepare for a fight.

Darts buzzed overhead, traveling in ones and twos. Then the sky lit up with a flash of white light, followed by another more distant flash, like lightning. Sheppard held his breath, counting the seconds. Right as he reached twenty-seven, a loud _clang _met them, trailing a grumbling of thunder.

"The cannons," John said quietly. It was the only thing that would make such a specific noise. Even at a distance, the catastrophic discharge pushed in on their eardrums.

Neither John, Ronon, or Teyla got a wink of sleep after that. They sat up together, watching the stars, listening to the distant battle, only able to guess at its progress. The cannons kept up their thunderous performance throughout most of the night, and Rodney slept through the entire thing.

As dawn approached, Sheppard spotted darts flying back south, so high up they looked no bigger than a fingernail. "They're pulling back." It was the first time any of them had spoken since the battle commenced.

Teyla shook her head. "They are still close."

For the millionth time that night, John checked his LSD. Still, it read only their four life-signs.

More darts flitted by overhead, and the cannons' last rumble faded out.

Teyla hopped off the statue and checked her watch. "There is little over an hour until sunrise."

Sheppard shook his head. "I've got no chance sleeping after that. Why don't you two grab some shut-eye?"

Ronon threw a look at John, then stood, stretching. He began pacing around the large statue they had sheltered against, walking a tight circle over and over.

Half-smiling, Teyla pulled her pack over, and started pulling out all her supplies, sorting through them again.

The Colonel sighed. "Didn't think you'd go for it." He stood and stretched, his muscles stiff from holding still in tension for the last few hours. Once he was feeling a bit more limber, John pushed up onto the base of the statue, assuming the unofficial watch position for that night, LSD in hand.

Time passed slowly, wound up as they were, constantly on edge. They waited impatiently for the sun, wanting to be moving. Teyla had unpacked and repacked each of their backpacks, and now sat cross-legged, looking to the world as though she were meditating, but John could tell by the way her expression kept shifting that she was really trying to stretch her sixth sense as far as she could without actually connecting to the wraith.

When the first rays of the sun began to show distant in the east, Sheppard jumped down from the statue, a small frown pulling at his lips as he felt... something unfamiliar... in his injured leg. Shaking it off, he roused McKay.

"My turn to watch?" Rodney mumbled sleepily.

"No," Sheppard said, "it's wakey-wakey eggs and bay-key."

"More like powdered eggs and not-bacon," McKay grumbled. "Hey, why didn't you wake me? I was supposed to have third shift," he said, waking up more fully.

"I think between the three of us staying up half the night we had it covered," replied John.

"What?"

Teyla cracked open one eye, looking at the two Earthlings askance. "The Wraith sent a wave of darts shortly after midnight."

"The Orbital Defence Cannons are loud, even this far out," John added. "Not that we'd be able to sleep with darts buzzing overhead."

Rodney looked alarmed. "What?!"

"Honestly I'm surprised you were able to sleep through all the noise," John mumbled. "But there's nothing to worry about," he continued in a louder voice, "the Wraith packed it in about an hour ago. Let's get some food."

They ate breakfast quickly, eager to reach the city as soon as they may, to find out exactly what was going on. Together, they set out before the sun had fully risen, continuing north-west as best they could.

Hustling through the dry underbrush in the sweltering heat was no picnic, but at least they were lightening their packs by guzzling down water every other moment. They were considering when to break for lunch when Rodney called out a warning in the same instant that John broke into a large clearing.

Sheppard froze, staring for half a second before his yell drowned out McKay's.

"Wraith!"

Sheppard drew his borrowed pistols and took aim at the figures moving just behind the trees on the other end of the clearing. Ronon, Teyla, and McKay spread out behind him, sighting the wraith with their own weapons. The loud retort of the Protegan armarvas filled the air, nearly drowning out the sound of the wraith's returning fire.

The wraith warriors started out, crossing the clearing. John counted ten wraith closing the distance to his team, and reluctantly called to fall back into the cover of the trees.

John's pistol clicked dry, and he swiftly dropped the other to reload. They had only managed to properly down two of the damn things. Just as he was considering running for it, a snarling growl ripped through the clearing, and Sheppard looked up in time to see a large animal leap out of the trees to the east, tackling three wraith in one move, biting the head off another. The thing was taller than a man, and looked like an awesome fusion between a wolf and a dragon- a Forest Drake.

The hapless wraith fired upon this new threat that was tearing their troop to shreds with its long claws and sharp teeth, goring with its long horns, and beating with its reptilian tail, but the stunners didn't seem to penetrate its coarse fur. Hurriedly, John signalled his team to cease fire, and they watched from cover as the drake decimated the wraith, chasing the few survivors west out of the clearing with a fierce roar.

Silence fell in the wake of the brief but violent altercation.

"Holy crap," Rodney said weakly.

John finished reloading with slightly shaking hands. To think they'd been sleeping in the same forest as such creatures...

"We'd best keep moving," Sheppard finally said, taking point again.

They moved on more cautiously, now that they knew there were at least some wraith on the ground. What the wraith were doing there they could only guess at, but whatever their purpose was, it surely boded ill for Protegat.

Shaken by their encounter, no one wanted to stop for lunch, and they chose to push on, to try and reach some sort of safety before sundown. Instead of sticking to their beeline to the city, Rodney used John's LSD to locate the nearest cache, which were fewer and farther between the closer you got to the city. Knowing the cache would be located in some sort of shelter, AR-1 marched determinedly, eating lunch as they walked.

They were nearing the emergency supply cache when John spotted more life signs on Rodney's LSD. Throwing up a fist, he halted his team, then signalled to fan out and engage. In this manner, they took the unwitting wraith by surprise, and from a position of advantage. However, the odds evened out when the small scouting party of wraith were joined by an additional troop of twenty.

The small engagement drew out into a full-blown firefight, one in which they had nothing but small arms to participate with. Sheppard quickly abandoned dual wielding, not only to conserve ammo but also to increase accuracy. The minutes dragged by with no indication that they would win anytime soon, and John berated himself for jumping in to the fight without considering the possibility of Wraith reinforcements.

But, of course, he hadn't considered the possibility of receiving reinforcements for their side, either.

Rapid-fire bullets drummed into the tide of wraith, cutting them down. Though he knew the sound could only belong to impetus weapons fire, Sheppard hardly dared hope that help had finally arrived. But in short order, the wraith warriors lay prone in the dirt and leaves, and six familiar figures cautiously entered the forested arena, scanning with the barrels of their rifles.

As the white-and-black clad humans searched the horizon critically, Sheppard called out. "All clear?"

The third-tallest of the Protegan fireteam looked up, spotting AR-1 hidden in the trees. "All clear!" she confirmed. "Weapons down!"

The fireteam lowered their rifles, holding them at scout, backing towards each other in an outward-facing circle. John led his team out of cover.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Officer," John said with a tired smile.

"_Kilamest,_" Officer Kancilla cursed, "Sheppard? Didn't expect to see Atlantis Reconnaissance One out here."

Tarcellad glanced side-ways at them. "More like fireteam Stubble," she said with a chuckle. One of the other Soldiers groaned softly.

"What the hells are you guys doing out here?" Kancilla continued, ignoring her teammate.

"Our jumper crashed fifty klicks out from the city," Sheppard explained, "we've been trying to make our way back ever since."

"Kilamest," the Officer repeated. "Everyone back at Command thinks you're dead, you've been out of contact for days!"

John grimaced. "We didn't have a lot of luck with our own comm equipment, and the relays seem to be down in this area."

Kancilla frowned. "We've been having trouble with that, slagging insurrectionists. We're still under gag from their stunt last week. But come on, let's not wait around for more parasites to find us." She turned abruptly, striding through the middle of her fireteam, who fell in behind their Officer, as she headed due west.

"Where are we headed?" Sheppard asked, stumbling after her. Teyla and Ronon were at his side in an instant.

The Protegan Officer glanced back. "Ferd! I forgot, you took fire at One-Three. That must be completely wrecked by now. The rest of your team doesn't look in much better shape." Kancilla paused, then nodded to herself. "Tarcellad, Torrad, Nerrede, and I will take your packs. Harlil, help the Colonel walk. Torrad, stick yourself to McKay, you're his body guard."

"I'm fine, Officer, just a little tired," John protested as the fireteam swarmed AR-1, helping them take their packs off.

"If 'fine' is another word for dead on your feet, I agree," Kancilla said happily. She stepped behind John, pulling the backpack's straps off his shoulders. "We've got a four-and-a-half-hour hike to our extraction point. If you want to run your team to the ground, that's your lookout." Kancilla's smile turned smug, as she knew she had the Colonel beat.

"Alright, but I'm fine to walk on my own," Sheppard said, dropping his pack.

Kancilla picked it up in a spritely manner, squatting so she could lift it with her legs, then pulled the straps awkwardly over her body armour. "All the same, Harlil's gonna stick to your side, because I'm ordering him to. Please don't make him disobey a direct order from his CO; it'll look bad on his record."

Sheppard conceded, but with poor grace. "Fine," he grumbled, "just let me decide if and when I need help."

Either side of him, Teyla rolled her eyes while Ronon sighed.

"Compromise;" Kancilla offered, giving Harlil a significant look, "we let your teammates decide."

"Sure thing," the Soldier said, nodding at Teyla and Ronon.

"Okay, weapons up!" Kancilla said, moving out again, her teammates having shouldered the rest of AR-1's packs. "Fireteam Kator mission objective: Wraith Hunting scrapped, change of circumstance," she said to the air as she walked in the lead, rifle at the ready. "Allied team found stranded, in need of medical attention. Evidence of concussion witnessed, malnourishment, exhaustion and fatigue. Prior knowledge of gunshot wound sustained by ally team leader in previous mission. Fireteam Kator re-prioritised in light of ally team's condition; evacuation of allies to Zolaria."

No-one on the fireteam seemed to find this behaviour odd, simply walking in silence, their rifles raised and scanning the area. They were moving slowly, at a methodical pace, and in his exhaustion, it took John a while to figure out why.

"Officer?" he called in a low voice. Kancilla paused, held up her hand to halt the procession, then stalked to the middle of her team, where she had insisted AR-1 travel in their little caravan.

"Colonel?" she asked quietly when she drew level with him.

"The Wraith- we can keep up a constant scan for them." Sheppard pulled out his LSD, showing the Officer the scanner's readout of their ten life-signs. "We can travel quicker with this, knowing where any other life-signs are."

Kancilla smiled softly. "We're in the claimed territory of a forest drake; we're moving slowly and quietly so it might not kill us. But once we're past the staked area, we'll put that gizmo of yours to good use."

John nodded, and Kancilla moved back to the front. They continued their slow, cautious march, stealing through the forest as softly as they could. When they had been travelling for nearly two hours, a chime ran through the Protegan's radios; five ascending notes.

"The drake sleeps tonight," Elderera sing-songed, mimicking the sound of the chime.

Kancilla nodded. "We're clear, now show me that Ancestral thingo again."

Sheppard brought the LSD up to her.

"I assume you need the genesong to use it?" Kancilla asked. 'The genesong' was what they called the ATA gene.

"Naturally," John confirmed.

"Alright." Kancilla glanced back at Elderera, then studied the LSD. "When we get to the extraction point, Elderera's going to use a tightbeam to notify High Command that AR-1 is still kicking it out here. Then you'll catch an avem back to the city. Things are a bit messy out here, but they'll need you at Orbital Defence. More importantly, you all need a Medicus... each."

"What exactly is going on? What's happened since we fell off the grid?" Sheppard asked as they started moving again, a bit faster now that they didn't have to worry so much about stealth.

"I can't give you the full details, 'cause I don't know them myself, but late last afternoon five more hives turned up. Seems they're mighty keen on taking Protegat down. Damn parasites hid behind the moon, just like the last lot of them. They sent another wave of darts at midnight, attacking the cannons, but they were a decoy. They used the cover of darkness to land troops throughout the forest and grasslands, then sent those troops after the outlying installations- comm relays, power stations, even training bases. Fireteams have been out here since before dawn; hunting parties to take down the tarsats."

They walked in silence for a few paces. "Of course, I know more than I'm supposed to." Here, Kancilla threw a chastising look at Elderera, who shrugged.

"I hear what I hear."

"Those were encrypted comms."

Elderera smiled innocently, but the effect was ruined by her visored helmet.

"Anyway, the Commanders, Knights, Lords, and Protectors have their work cut out for them. We've never had to mount an offensive on this many fronts before." The Officer sighed, looking up at the sky, then around at the trees. "We can win this," she said with sudden conviction. "We can do this."

John nodded, keeping his own doubts reserved. _Five hive ships._ _Five!_ Glancing down to check the LSD, he frowned. They barely managed to destroy the first hive, how were they going to take down five of them?

Unknowingly, Sheppard slowed his pace, falling behind to where Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney still walked in the middle of the fireteam. When he stumbled again, Harlil automatically reached out to steady him.

"I'm fine," Sheppard parroted, even though he did _not_ feel fine. His leg was somehow not right, but he had no name for the sensation in his thigh, nothing to compare it to. It just felt _wrong_.

"Soldier Harlil," Teyla said softly, "I think it best if you help the Colonel from here on."

"I'm fine," John snapped.

"Colonel, you are clearly unable to stand on your own," Teyla replied in a sterner voice.

"I'm-"

McKay cut over him. "For crying out loud, Colonel, you're leaning against the man like a drunk about to pass out!"

Looking up at the Soldier, John realised the truth of Rodney's words. He frowned again, deeply unsettled that he had not been aware his body had listed to the side as they stood there. "...Fine."

Harlil grinned in his friendly manner, then drew Sheppard's right arm over his shoulder. "Lean on me as much as you need to," he said.

John reluctantly accepted his help, determined to still carry his own weight, but his body betrayed him, his bad leg refusing to take his weight properly.

"I'm going to grab your hip, so I can support you better," Harlil said, then reached his right hand over and held on to John's right hip in a very firm grip, and suddenly there was no weight going onto his injured leg.

The sun began to set on the forest, and Kancilla started getting antsy. "Switch on light-enhancement," she ordered, and Kator moved as one, flicking one of the buttons on their helmets. Their silver visors turned black.

John remembered seeing this effect the last time he had seen the fireteam using night-vision. It wasn't that dark yet, but night fell quick in amongst the trees.

Finally, in the dark of night, they broke into a large clearing, bigger than any they'd seen so far. There were small spots of light lining the perimeter, and a strange radar array set up in the middle.

Kancilla gestured at the array. "Elderera, you're up."

The engineer nodded, accessing the array controls and setting up a tightbeam. "All yours Officer," she said after a few minutes, stepping back.

Kancilla approached the array, leaving AR-1 with the rest of fireteam Kator. "Kator Officer Kancilla requesting medevac for Atlantis Reconnaissance One, repeat, Atlantis Reconnaissance One has been found alive and are in need of medevac to Zolaria."

Waiting expectantly, Kancilla and Elderera stared at the specialised comm device, until a small blue light blinked four times.

"Avem's on the way," Kancilla said, rejoining her team and Sheppard's, standing close to the edge of the clearing. "We'll wait with you until it gets here."

Kancilla, Torrad, Nerrede, and Tarcellad lowered the Lantean team's packs to the ground. They formed a circle, eyes outwards, while Harlil glanced at Sheppard.

"Colonel, would you like to sit down?" he asked in a tone that made it clear it was John's choice.

Grateful, John thought about it. "No," he decided. "I'm not sure I'll want to get up ever again when I finally do sit down."

"Fair enough," Harlil said, and remained standing in the middle of the circle with AR-1, supporting John with an arm around his waist.

After eleven minutes, they heard the approaching avem's rotor blades whirring. Not long after, the transport itself appeared, flying low across the trees. It landed in a swirl of wind, stirring a cloud of dirt into the air. As its landing gear touched the ground, fireteam Kator accompanied John and his team, helping them up into the open crew compartment.

"You're gonna want to sit down for this ride, Colonel," Harlil yelled over the rotors and jets as he lowered John into one of four seats, securing him with a harness.

"Thanks!" John replied. Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney took the remaining seats, struggling with the unfamiliar harnesses until Torrad, Elderera, and Tarcellad stepped up to help them sort out the straps. Once they were all secured, the Soldiers stowed their packs for them, then hopped out of the avem.

Kancilla led her fireteam in a salute, which Sheppard returned, then Kancilla drew a circle in the air, and the avem started to take off. The Officer turned and headed back out into the forest with her team at her heels.

Fireteam Kator was back on the hunt.


	15. No Rest for the Weary

The city was lit up with hundreds of thousands of tiny lights. At first glance it looked no different than it had any other time Sheppard had seen it at night. Then John spotted the columns of smoke drifting lazily in the air, and a strange shimmering mirage seemed to be prevalent around the Ring, centralising around each cannon. He leaned out as far as he could in the safety harness, trying to figure out what he was seeing. Rodney yelled something next to him, but the rotors and jet engines drowned the physicist out.

Evidently they passed the communications deadzone in the next minute or so, as John's Protegan comm unit crackled to life, barely audible in the open crew compartment. Dozens of voices warbled out, all too muffled and indistinct to make sense of. John turned the thing off, too tired to listen to the inane babbling it kept choking out.

The avem continued to fly low, barely ten metres up from the forest canopy, only climbing in altitude when they began passing the city's outer limits. Then it started to rise sharply, gaining the clearing needed to pass over the Ring wall.

It was clear that the darts had managed to reach the city itself, as many of the towers had taken damage, though as far as John could tell nothing that threatened the stability of the buildings.

As they continued to rise almost straight up, Sheppard recognised the building in front of them as Zolaria, the military hospital he had previously been to. They touched down on a retractable priority landing pad towards the top of the tower, where a medical team was waiting for them.

Ducking instinctively as they stepped under the whirring rotors, three cadets, two attendes, and Medicus Barukazaar approached the avem, wheeling four gurneys. The Protegan medics helped Sheppard and his team out of their harnesses and then spent a few minutes convincing Ronon to get on a gurney. The argument only ended when Sheppard had suddenly barked at Ronon, ordering the man to comply with the doctors.

As they were wheeled inside the hospital, the avem took off again, and through the large windows they could see the landing pad start to retract. Then they were carted off through the clean white halls and taken to a noisy half-full triage, where various medical personnel were hurriedly tending wounded members of the service corps. There were no privacy screens, which didn't really faze the Lanteans, accustomed as they were to such a set up on Atlantis.

Medicus Barukazaar started on Sheppard immediately, one cadet glued to his side, while the two attendes and other cadets gave their attention to Teyla, Ronon, and McKay. They were helped out of their tac gear, feeling especially filthy in contrast to the sterile hospital, with four days worth of grime coating them. Once they were unburdened by their vests, jackets, and boots, they were each questioned by the medics, except for Sheppard. Barukazaar, having been the physician in charge of John's previous treatment at Zolaria, went straight to inspecting the bullet wound in his right thigh, while the assisting cadet stowed all of AR-1's gear at the far end of the room.

The Medicus removed the field bandages carefully, took one look through Sheppard's cut up BDUs, and sighed. Barukazaar turned to a passing cadet and murmured something to them, who nodded and carried on. Turning back to face Sheppard, Barukazaar started taking the Colonel's vitals; flashing a penlight in his eyes, then reading his pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. By the time he was done, another older looking doctor had turned up, and was hovering over the Medicus' shoulder, reading John's vitals. The two exchanged some quiet words, then Barukazaar stepped aside, moving to consult with Teyla's Attende.

"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?" the new doctor asked.

John nodded.

"Magister Chirurgus Aldren Tiiros, at your service. Medicus Barukazaar has referred your case to me, as he does not feel experienced enough to safely handle your injury," he explained.

"That bad, huh?" Sheppard asked, only joking on the outside. Chirurgus were the highest-ranking doctors in Protegat, only a few dozen currently held the title.

Tiiros shrugged. "It isn't good. I understand you opted out of surgery at the initial infliction of injury but-" he broke off mid-sentence as a medical cadet swept past him bearing a laden tray of fruit, which she presented first to McKay. Rodney picked out a few pieces and began eating, and she offered the fruit to Teyla and Ronon next. John had overheard one of the Attendes comment on the physicist's blood sugar levels.

"None for the Colonel," Tiiros said, holding up a hand to halt the cadet. "Nil by mouth until otherwise stated."

Before he could pick up their previous conversation, Consulate Pacem rushed through the automatic sliding doors with agitated impatience. "Stars above!" he exclaimed, "I didn't dare believe Officer Kancilla's tightbeam." Atheon's usually immaculate uniform was creased; his sleeves scrunched around hands encased to the finger tips, showing he was wearing his armored undersuit beneath his rumpled tunic. There was a deep cut in his left cheek that hadn't been treated.

Frowning, Chirurgus Tiiros spoke, "Consulate, I need to tend to Colonel Sheppard _now_."

"Overruled, Chirurgus. I need Atlantis Reconnaissance One for a moment," Pacem said with authority.

Tiiros' eyes narrowed. "I cannot in good conscious further delay treatment. I will not break my vows for you."

Atheon did a double-take. "Are you questioning my order?" he asked with bite to his tone.

"No, sir, I am ignoring it." Tiiros prepped a pneumatic syringe.

Pacem didn't move. "May I remind you we are currently under an emergency planetary directive- the Comminatio Protocol no less? I'm sure you are aware of the punishment for civilian interference with the Defense Corps."

Tiiros bristled. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes, I am. How astute of you," Atheon replied coolly. "Back down, Chirurgus, I am here on the Justicer's orders."

The two glared at each other before Tiiros pressed his lips into a thin line, and took a step back, frustration writ on his face.

Atheon made no further comment, turning instead to McKay. "Rodney, what you did to the first hive, can it be done again?"

"Not likely, but I'm willing to give it a shot," the physicist replied.

Sheppard shook his head. "The _Daedalus_ can't go toe-to-toe with five hives, who I'm guessing have a cruiser escort."

"The _Apollo _arrived not long after the hives, and managed to slip past them into atmosphere. Colonel Ellis reported ten cruisers accompanying the hives. Both Colonel Caldwell and Colonel Ellis are willing to throw a punch at the Wraith," Pacem explained, "though they do have doubts as to the effectiveness of such an outnumbered strike."

"Has the Justicer considered evacuation?" John asked. "I know how unsavoury the thought of cutting and running can be, but chances are even if we defeat this attack, more will come, again and again, until Protegat is destroyed."

Atheon visibly debilitated. "She has been leaning in that direction. Major Lorne came up with a plan to bring Orbital Defence back into play, but without you Xerath didn't think we could pull it off." He paused, seeming indecisive, "However, I don't think your team is fit for continued combat."

At this, Chirurgus Tiiros nodded emphatically.

"Atheon," Sheppard said seriously, "if there's a way we can help we're doing it."

Still hesitant, the Consulate shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should hold off on making a decision until your medical examinations are completed."

John frowned, torn between wanting to act and wanting his team looked after. He turned his head to look at Teyla, Ronon, and McKay, who were watching him in return. Making a decision, he turned back to Atheon. "Tell us Lorne's plan."

Atheon smiled. "I don't take orders from you, Colonel. I will inform the Justicer of Chirurgus Tiiros' concerns and-"

"Pacem," Sheppard interrupted, "please, your home planet is on the line, the only safe place left in the galaxy. Let us help."

The Consulate was silent for a moment, considering John's words. Finally, he spoke, "Chirurgus, a word please." He stepped out of the room, Tiiros on his heels.

Sheppard glanced back at his team. "You guys are on board with this, right?"

"Of course," Rodney said in a surprised tone, as Ronon grunted his agreement.

"We have worked hard to resettle the refugees of the galaxy," Teyla said, "I will not surrender Protegat without a fight, not if there is another choice."

"Just checking," John said with a small smile, then focused on the closed door, where Pacem and Tiiros' muted voices could be heard.

A few minutes passed, during which three of the other patients in the room were moved, presumably to less temporary beds. Then, the doors slid open again and the Consulate and Chirurgus returned, though their conversation did not seem over.

"I would rather talk to the Justicer myself about this," Tiiros was saying as he followed Pacem. "Who knows what further damage could be wrought if-"

Atheon spoke over his concerns. "As a Consulate of the Ambassadorial Corps I must be able to make unbiased assessments for the greater good. Justicer Xerath trusts my judgment, and you should too."

The Chirurgus looked about ready to tear his hair out when the Consulate said 'the greater good.' Tiiros' behaviour reminded John of Carson, and _there_ was something he didn't want to think about right then, knowing what the highland physician would be saying if he were in the room.

"Selfless duty demands sacrifice," Atheon said.

"Don't quote the vows at me, Consulate!" Tiiros snapped.

Pacem frowned. "Sacrifice is not only personal, Chirurgus. Accept my decision or be removed from duty."

Tiiros hesitated, as though considering whether to cross the line Pacem had drawn, then acquiesced, stepping back once again. John noted the rest of the medical staff seemed to breathe a sigh in relief. They had not once halted in their business, instead rather pointedly ignoring the heated conversation, but the ease of tension belied their indifference.

"Ugh," Atheon muttered, as though relieved himself that Tiiros had finally capitulated. "I hate having to throw my weight around. Anyway," he cleared his throat, "we're all aware the Wraith aren't going to stop coming after us. Chances are they've disseminated the coordinates of Protegat within their collective, and that each wave will use the moon debris as shelter from Orbital Defence. Zelenka's been helping our Academics with some calculations, but we're fairly confident that Major Lorne's plan is our most viable option."

He paused and leaned casually against the end of Sheppard's bed, facing Teyla, Ronon, and McKay. "We're going to blow up the moon."

"What?" Rodney asked. "Do you have any idea how insane that sounds? Do you even realise how much gravitational action celestial satellites have on planetary bodies? And what about the effect an explosion of that size will have on the nebula? You know, that thing keeping you hidden from scanners? Oh no, of course not, since we're letting Top Gun and his Jarheads make the plans!"

Atheon raised a hand to his forehead, the picture of stress. "Believe me Rodney, we aren't treating this lightly, but we do not have an infinite amount of time to weigh the pros and cons. We need to _act._" He lowered his hand to lock eyes with McKay, his gaze conveying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

Rodney scowled. "I know," he sighed. "But this is a huge risk. We'd never be able to account for every variable, even if we had ten years to spare. Destroying the moon, or rather what's left of it, could have disastrous repercussions on the ecosystem."

Almost smiling, Atheon gave a short chuckle. "Well, the thing's on its way out anyway. Especially since the first wave of Wraith ships got blown up pretty close to it, dislodging more of its mass into the ring."

"Of course," Rodney said with a whack on his forehead, "I never considered the shockwave that explosion would cause."

"It's been a pretty stressful week," Sheppard offered up, hoping to assuage some of Rodney's inevitable self-blame.

"So what damaged the moon in the first place? And how were you planning on destroying the rest of it?" Rodney asked.

Atheon shrugged. "Atidum shot it with an Orbital Defence Cannon. It was aiming for an asteroid on a collision course with Protegat. Saved the planet, wrecked the moon."

"That is a lot cooler than I thought it would be," John said. "How big was the asteroid?"

"Colonel, you know I'm normally just as excited as you about this stuff, but we need to focus," Atheon chastised.

Sheppard grimaced. "Sorry."

Atheon's voice softened. "It's okay, I know you and your team are exhausted. Now," he said, snapping back to a professional tone, "in order to destroy the moon, we need Orbital Defence."

Abruptly, Ronon cut in. "So why do you need us?" he asked gruffly.

"Because the Wraith have set up jammers targeting the cannons."

Rodney started. "What?! How?!"

It was Atheon's turn to grimace. "We've had trouble ascertaining that, since they have been happily knocking out our comm and sensor relays, but we have several specialist fireteams on the ground running recon. Justicer Xerath, Lord Farade, Colonel Ellis, Colonel Caldwell, and Major Lorne are monitoring their progress at High Command. Once we identify whatever's blocking our scanners, we'll roll on those targets. That, Specialist Dex, is where Atlantis Reconnaissance One comes in."

Standing straight, Pacem turned to face Sheppard. "Colonel, the truth is our speed-heads can't go toe-to-toe with the wraith darts, even ruling out the distinct possibility of ground-to-air fire. And fast as they can be, the avem's are outfitted for transport and rescue, not phoenix work. We need experienced fighter pilots, and we need your F-302s."

John pressed his thumb to his lips, thinking. A few moments of silence passed, while he mulled it over. "Okay, I understand things are hectic right now, but frankly, when you blow that moon up all hell is going to break loose. The Wraith will realise it's now or never, and I'm afraid they will literally throw themselves at the city. Their darts are not above kamikaze runs and I doubt their cruisers will be either. Which means, for us, it's all or nothing. I know this is your only option short of evacuation, but we have to have everything lined up perfectly or we're all dead."

"You really think they'll sacrifice such large numbers of their own troops to strike us down?" Atheon asked, visibly disturbed.

"Trust me," Sheppard said with a frown, "Wraith Queens have no issues sending their servants to their deaths."

Atheon cast his eyes down, deep in thought.

"To survive this, we need to set up some sort of blockade," John continued, his brain in full tactics mode, "be ready to engage the wraith in-atmosphere, and force them to focus on us while the cannons pick them off from the ground. The _Daedalus _and _Apollo_ will need to be in position, with their 302s, and move on the wraith the moment the moon is gone. All cannons need to shift their aim the second the explosion clears and coordinate fire on the closest enemy ship, and be damn sure they don't hit our friendlies."

With a sigh, Atheon turned towards the wall. "An operation of that magnitude will take time to coordinate, and the gladius squads took a few casualties in the first wave. We don't have enough fighters to support a hit on the Wraith's staging sites, and without that support our ground forces will be scooped up by darts before they can take out the jammers." He slumped, and leaned back against John's bed again. "Maybe we _should_ just call it quits."

John ran a hand over his still-dirty, stubbly face, caught by the dilemma.

"How many gladius fighters are still operational?" Ronon asked.

"Two of the squad that participated in the first assault, five of beta, three of gamma," Atheon answered automatically.

"And how are the jumpers going?" the Satedan pressed.

Catching up to Ronon's train of thought, John brightened. "If the gladius and jumpers worked together, they could balance out their weaknesses enough to effectively cover the ground forces."

"And leave the cannons defenceless?" Atheon exclaimed.

"The avems should be enough to guard the cannons, since the Wraith forces will be largely occupied countering our offensive," John reasoned.

"If you don't commit to the assault, the cannons will be useless anyway," Ronon commented.

Stressed more than ever, Atheon huffed out a short breath. "You're right. But this is a lot to process." He deliberated, staring at nothing. "I'll talk with Xerath. Major Lorne will be anxious to hear how you are all holding up."

"Tell him we're fine," John said, and Tiiros grumbled under his breath. John ignored the Chirrurgus. "He doesn't need to worry while the city is in danger."

Straightening up, Pacem resumed his professional aura. "I will make my report to the Justicer, and pass on your concerns about the assault. I will contact you when we have completed analysis and are ready to continue discussion." He fixed his gaze on Tiiros. "Chirrugus, you are ordered _not_ to initiate any surgery on any member of Atlantis Reconnaissance One until you receive contrary orders. Unless their life is in immediate danger, you will not administer any sedative medicines, or any treatments that may impede their abilities to perform defensive services."

Chirrurgus Tiiros glowered at the Consulate, but bowed his head, acknowledging the command.

"I'll be in touch shortly," Pacem said over his shoulder as he hurried from the room.

Once he was gone, the team shared a look of trepidation.

"Crap," Rodney breathed.

John slowly shook his head. "This is not good."


	16. Line Up and Sound Off

While Chirurgus Tiiros inspected Sheppard's leg wound, Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon were allowed to shower, and given clean Atlantis uniforms that Atheon had sent for. Once they were clean the many cuts and abrasions they had picked up in the crash and ensuing hike were treated. After debating with Medicus Barukazaar, Tiiros sent Teyla to have her head scanned, to make sure her concussion was settling safely.

As Teyla was being wheeled away, Tiiros and Barukazaar's conversation turned to the subject of John's health. Tiiros wanted to keep the Colonel nil by mouth, and prepare for surgery the moment they heard back from Pacem. Barukazaar was adamant the Justicer would side with Pacem, and insisted they begin first aid while they had the chance. Seeing their distraction, John shuffled off his gurney, digging through his pile of filthy clothes and gear, until he found his comm unit.

He sat back on his gurney and turned the volume back up with shaking hands. He felt a second of sympathy for Rodney, as he cursed his trembling, exhausted body. _How dare it need food and rest,_ he thought to himself, _I have bigger things to deal with right now._

The situation update channel was a mess, with irregular chatter from officers calling in with intel from the few places that still had coverage. Just as John was settling in to play catch up on events, Tiiros scowled and snatched the device from him.

"You're in recovery, Colonel," Tiiros growled over John's protests.

Sheppard struggled to his feet. "I know you've only just met me, Chirurgus," John drawled, "but I am the biggest pain in the ass as a patient. The only way you can keep me in bed short of restraints is letting me stay in the damn loop."

"I could easily push you back onto your gurney, Colonel," Tiiros stated, automatically reaching out a hand to steady Sheppard as he stumbled slightly. Then he sighed. "Fine. Get back on the gurney and you can have the comm unit."

Eyes locked on the Chirurgus, Sheppard sank back onto the gurney. He then held out a hand, and Tiiros gave him the comm back. Still staring defiantly at Tiiros, John turned the volume up at maximum, right as a female voice updated from a civilian hospital that had been hit by the Wraith in the second wave. A casualty report. In the silence afterwards, Chirurgus Tiiros hung his head in despair.

"Okay Medicus," he said with a sigh. "Let's start first aid. Get the Colonel on a saline drip. We'll set up first for field patch, then surgery. If the Justicer decides Atlantis Reconnaissance One is not needed we can fix things up properly, but if they are, we need to get them in serviceable condition."

Barukazaar nodded, moving immediately to comply with his orders.

The Chirurgus was distracted for a moment, switching on his wrist-mounted screen after it beeped. "Teyla Emmagen, at least, does not require medical intervention," he said after several minutes. "Her scans are clear enough," he paused, twisting his arm to show Sheppard the screen, on which were the results of her scan. "Attende Grask is moving her back to triage now."

Sheppard nodded. "Thanks for the update," he said with gratitude.

Tiiros tapped his screen, then moved it in a familiar slow downstroke, while its scanners whirred. Considering the readout, Tiiros hummed absently as Medicus Barukazaar reappeared. "Let's start with reapplying treatment to the gunshot wound," Tiiros said without looking up from his scanner, "the ribs aren't floating but I want to give some reinforcement to those breaks. Colonel?" he asked with a glance at his patient, "we need to talk about that torn ligament in your left knee."

"Huh?" Sheppard asked, dumbfounded.

The Chirurgus pursed his lips. "Never mind, if you didn't know about it it's unlikely you know what caused it. We'll simply have to strap and brace it if you and your team are sent back into the field."

At that moment Teyla was wheeled back into the room, and in the brief distraction, Sheppard flexed his knee experimentally, finding the movement not as smooth as it should be. He wasn't sure if it hurt though; everything was hurting to some degree, and it was hard to get a read on any specifics.

After confirming Teyla's results with the Attende looking after her, Tiiros set both Attendes and the Cadets that had accompanied them to Ronon, Teyla, and McKay, scanning for injuries and sorting out support for stressed areas.

"Medicus on me," Tiiros said, pulling over a wheeling table covered in medical apparatus. Barukazaar moved in sync with the table, and, with Tiiros near-constantly murmuring, apparently using this as a teaching moment, the two cut away the tattered remnants of Sheppard's right pants leg, and began to carefully, as gently as possible, clean and clear the wound.

Minutes dragged by, John leaning back as hard as he could, muscles rigid with tension as he tried not to move. Lying flat, he couldn't see what the Protegan docs were up to, and he _really_ didn't want to know. Suddenly, he felt a hand grasp his upper arm. He lifted his head to find Tiiros's eyes locked sympathetically on his.

"I'm very sorry Colonel, but now we must remove the compression foam from inside the wound, and as per the Consulate's orders, we can't give you any numbing agents," Tiiros said.

Teyla spoke from the bed beside him, "Surely there is some sort of local anaesthetic you could administer?"

The Chirurgus grimaced. "I mean no disapproval, you did your best under the circumstances ma'am, but- and I really mean no offence- the second application of local cryo and compression foam make that impossible."

The breath left Teyla audibly, like a sucker-punch.

John cursed, then dragged a hand over his face again. Forcing himself to relax, he shook his head. "This is absolutely _not your fault, Teyla,_"he turned his head to look at her. "I'm the die-hard idiot." John held her gaze until she nodded. Nodding back, he rolled his head back to neutral, then took a deep breath. "Do what you have to, Chirurgus."

Tiiros released his hold on John's arm, then paused, watching as Ronon came to stand by the gurney. The Satedan grasped Sheppard's forearm, and John returned the grip. When Ronon let go, Tiiros muttered something, to which Barukazaar murmured an affirmative. Ronon lay one hand on John's chest, the other on his left thigh. With that bracing pressure, John encouraged his nervous, exhausted body to relax, then a knife of burning cold ice pierced the protective numbness that still loosely shrouded the wound in his right thigh. His body bucked instinctively, pushing up against the iron strength of Ronon's bracing hands, before a wave of red roared in John's head, and he passed out.

* * *

The first thing that registered when Sheppard came to was the antiseptic smell of all hospitals. He lay unmoving, reflecting on why hospitals all smelled the same, reiterating to himself several times the importance of germ-free medical facilities. Then it occurred to him that there were sounds in the room, not just smells. Once he began to pay attention to that, he found the sounds were words. He obsessed over that for five seconds, then started to pay attention not to individual syllables that made up words, but the larger sentence they were constructing.

"... not sure yet. Justicer Xerath wants to talk to Colonel Sheppard in person. How long has he been out for?" Slowly, John recognised Consulate Pacem's voice. By the time he realised who was talking, someone else was speaking.

"Twenty-seven minutes," the new voice said. After a moment, the voice registered- it was Barukazaar speaking.

A mental lightbulb flicked, and John remembered he could see who was talking, if he opened his eyes, which were strangely closed. He didn't remember going to sleep, but life was funny like that. He dragged his eyelids open, rocking his head as he smiled crookedly. "Hullo."

With sight back in his repertoire, John saw Ronon as the Specialist clasped his shoulder with a small smile. The Satedan had changed his clothes, and was wearing the black tee and dark cargo pants of the Lantean military uniform. John almost giggled; the shirt was too small for his wide frame. Just behind Ronon, Teyla and Rodney sat on the edge of Teyla's gurney. A roll-ey table sat in front of them with water in plastic cups and another tray of fruit. Medicus Barukazaar was approaching John from the right side of his gurney, and a very relieved-looking Consulate Pacem stood at the foot-end of John's bed.

"'Hullo' yourself, Colonel," Rodney said, seeming happier than he had been since they crashed the jumper. _Probably the abundance of food, _John thought half-coherently.

Blinking hard, Sheppard forced himself to concentrate. "Consulate, you have an update from High Command?" he questioned, his voice uncertain, as Barukazaar cut off his field of vision. The Medicus took John's vitals while Pacem talked from behind him.

"Yes, Colonel. Justicer Xerath sent me to escort you and your team to High Command. She and her officers need to discuss your proposed alterations to the plan."

Barukazaar turned to the Consulate. "Chirurgus Tiiros has cleared Atlantis Reconnaissance One for resumption of duty, but cautions against combat."

"Noted," Atheon said, "Chirurgus Tiiros sent a personal report to me nine minutes ago, detailing his concerns. I won't hold you up any longer, Medicus."

Recognising the dismissal, Barukazaar saluted in the Protegan manner, then left the room.

"How are you all feeling, personally?" Pacem asked as the door slid shut behind the Medicus.

"Tired, but on a sugar high," Rodney chirped, selecting another slice of some purple fruit.

Sheppard smiled, happy McKay was happy, then nodded. "I'm still sorting my head out but physically I'm fine."

Folding his arms, his right elbow bearing a brace, Ronon grunted. "I'm ready to get back in the fight."

Teyla briefly raised her eyebrows, staring exasperated at the floor for half a second before raising her gaze to meet the Consulate's. "I myself am feeling a need to finish what we started."

"Very well then," Atheon said, "if you are ready, we will move to High Command. Justicer Xerath is waiting for us, and as you can imagine, time is of the essence."

Almost automatically, Ronon offered a supporting hand, giving John that extra bit of momentum as he sat up. The movement was stiff, but not as bad as it had been. He realised as he paused for a second, head still uncertain, that his chest was smothered in tough material. When John swung his legs off the gurney to rest his feet on the floor, he noted more of the plastic fabric covering his left knee and right hip separately. Curious, he threw off the light blanket someone had given him while unconscious, then inspected the areas in question. He found he was dressed only in boxers, and they weren't his- they bore the Protegan Service Corps emblem. Glossing over that, John focused on the polymer braces, strapped securely in place; one for his busted ribs, one for his supposedly torn ligament, and one for... he didn't remember anything being said about that hip, actually.

Shrugging, Sheppard stood barefoot on the cool linoleum floor. Teyla wordlessly passed him a bundle of dark cloth from beside her on her gurney. "Right, thank you," he said, figuring they were the clean BDUs Atheon had fetched them. "I'll just get dressed and we can go."

* * *

The noisy ride to High Command did not lend itself to conversation, so the team had to hold their questions. As the wind ripped through the open crew compartment, Sheppard stared broodingly at the massive city they flew through. Watching the pale smoke spiral slowly in the dark night, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He turned in his seat to make eye contact with Teyla, seated left of him.

Teyla arched an eyebrow, questioning his attention. John raised one arm, then tapped his wrist. Teyla held her wrist up, her digital watch glowing balefully. 1:13 AM, local time. Nodding his thanks, John faced the front again. Opposite him, in the rear-facing seats, Ronon and Rodney gazed out at the city. Atheon stood in the middle, right hand holding onto a hanging strap, habitually riding the movement of the avem as it banked around buildings, slowly ascending. His left arm was held horizontally, his head bowed as he focused on his wrist-mounted screen.

They rounded another tower, and then the High Command spire was directly ahead of them. As they approached, the priority hangar's doors ground open, and their avem flew in.

John waited, expecting the aerial vehicle to settle onto the stone floor, but Pacem dropped his hands, stepping off the short drop. With a mental shrug, John got to his feet, and he and his team followed suit. Atheon signalled all-clear to the pilots, and with a short increase of engine noise the avem pulled up and turned, flying straight back out.

Once the hangar doors closed and cut out the noise, Atheon launched into a break down of events as he walked away. AR-1 kept pace with him, as the Consulate led them out, up to the control room.

"After your defeat of the first hive and its cruiser escort, the _Daedalus_ and the gladius squadron combed the debris for survivors. Meanwhile the Justicer shifted the fireteams from defensive to recovery. We were well into deploying for repairing the damage to the city when Colonel Caldwell hailed us, asking if we had heard from you. I organised an aerial search, but we all feared the worst. For the next three days we kept listening for news, but you never contacted us, and we had no overabundance of resources, so our focus was on the city, the civilians." Pacem turned his head to look back at them, his expression apologetic.

"That's always the priority, Atheon," John assured him. "Don't feel bad for doing your job."

The Consulate grimaced. "Well, things were going smoothly, and Major Lorne was gearing up to go search for you himself, but then the hives got close enough to launch their darts. We wouldn't have known they were there if our short-range scanners hadn't detected them."

"The _Daedalus_ didn't pick them up?" Rodney asked.

"Your Earth ship was in-atmosphere," Atheon explained.

Rodney nodded. "And the Asgard sensors don't work through the nebula."

"Unfortunately," Atheon agreed. "Their darts descended while our pilots and gunners were still scrambling to return to defence. Initial casualties were... severe. We're still counting the dead. We were so caught up in fighting off the darts, we never realised scout ships had been landing out-range, that the attack was merely a decoy." Pacem shook his head heavily. "The first inkling we had that an infantry attack was incoming was when we suddenly lost contact with a host of outlying power stations. Not long after communications went down, power supply started dropping. It seems in pulling security fireteams back into the city, we opened up the civilian maintenance teams to assault." Atheon's voice cracked, and he paused in the middle of the hallway.

Suddenly, Sheppard was furious. He placed a gentle hand on Atheon's shoulder, his voice hard. "Atheon, this is not on you," John said, as Ronon grunted his agreement.

"The Wraith are the vile creatures that have chosen to destroy so many lives," Teyla growled.

John nodded, giving Atheon's shoulder a small squeeze when the Consulate remained silent. "We all thought that the safest thing was to pool the bulk of our forces around the cannons."

Atheon struggled, and seemed to swallow a lump is his throat, then coughed to clear it. "Sorry, it's been somewhat stressful the last fifty hours." He started walking again, shaking off John's hand as though nothing had happened.

John pursed his lips, but let it go. It would be hypocritical of him to say anything more, and he knew it.

"Once we realised what was going on," Atheon continued, "we rallied our fireteams and sent out search-and-destroy patrols, one of which you ran in to. The Justicer authorised chemical corpse disposal, but it has been difficult to set up freezer burns, as all civilians, even service contractors, have been benched. Almost all of the comm relays have been lost, so we've had to rely on tightbeams to pass messages. All fireteams are on record, sending updates whenever they can, but there's too much visor data to keep on top of, so we don't have a very clear picture what is going on in the outlying land and out-range. And, of course, there's still the hives and cruisers to worry about in all this. Early this morning, or yesterday morning, I guess, the _Apollo _arrived. They took some damage, but managed to break through to reach atmosphere. At the very least, Colonel Ellis was able to give us a clear picture of what forces we are up against. Knowing how serious the threat was, Major Lorne was initially going to set out with five other Atlantis Reconnaissance teams to assist our fireteam hunting parties, but Farade advised against it, given that your teams are unfamiliar with the terrain and the wildlife."

John nodded, thinking of the drake they had witnessed decimating wraith.

"Major Lorne was sent instead to Cannon Three, just ahead of another, smaller wave of darts. Only when he tried to take aim at the incoming fighters, he found the sensors weren't working, and the targeting system was unstable, jumping from object to object unpredictably. Every other cannon was reporting the same issues, so the Major took back to the air in his Puddlejumper. We dealt with the darts through air-to-air combat, and began running diagnostics."

"And when there was nothing wrong with the cannons, you figured out the wraith were somehow jamming the sensors," Rodney assumed.

Atheon gave a quick nod, as they walked through the doors to the busy control room floor. They ignored the salutes of the handful of guards, weaving around the milling service members and climbed the stairs, Atheon still explaining recent events. "Atidum ran through multiple countermeasures, with no success. The Major and the Colonels were called to High Command, where the Justicer discussed the situation at length with them, and Lorne proposed his plan. Given that it's our only shot at survival short of evacuation, the Justicer decided to enact it. We were monitoring the recon fireteams in the situation room when we were notified of fireteam Kator's tightbeam, and I volunteered to meet with you."

Right as the Consulate finished talking, they entered the situation room; an enlarged version of Sam's office back on Atlantis, where they had been briefed before their joint mission to Installation One-Three. Justicer Xerath, Protector Ildrait, Lord Farade, Colonel Caldwell, Colonel Ellis, Commander Tylo, and Major Lorne were all standing around a large flat console, staring down at the lit screen.

Atheon saluted, left fist against the right side of his chest. "Consulate Pacem escorting Atlantis Reconnaissance One to High Command situation room." Before he had finished speaking, all the assembled commanders had looked up. Relief broke a smile on Major Lorne's face, and he stepped away from the console, jogging over to the Lantean team.

"Thank God," he said fervently as he clapped John's arm, "I thought the day had finally come when I would have to shoulder your dreaded mantle of responsibilities." John could tell he was only partly joking.

"We're not done with it just yet," John said with a faint laugh.

Caldwell shook his head. "One day, Sheppard, you're going to crash on something as stubborn as you are."

"Let's be grateful that day has not yet come to pass," Justicer Xerath stated. Under the strain in her eyes, there was relief too. She beckoned Atheon, John, and his team closer.

"Fireteam Adamant have found promising signs they may be drawing near the wraith's jamming device," Xerath said, gesturing at a readout on the screen in front of her. John read the scrolling data, but couldn't make much of it- his grasp on Protegan military slang was basic, and the intel read like a science report for a field he'd never heard of before. His eyes scanned over the rest of the screen, which was split into multiple windows; fragments of visor data playing on loop, frozen screenshots of wraith platoons, landed scout ships, and an odd construct Sheppard wasn't familiar with.

"Ronon, have you ever seen anything like that?" John asked, pointing at the strange, purple, spire-like and definitively wraith building, partially obscured by an unclear landmass.

The former Satedan Specialist narrowed his eyes, focusing. "Once, on a raid. We never found out what it was, but it blew up pretty easily."

"'Blew up pretty easily,'" Rodney quoted. "Helpful, although we can make an educated guess that it had a lot of energy running through it, if that was the case. This could be the source of the interference."

Xerath frowned, absorbed in her reading, while Farade gazed contemplatively at the wall. Pacem, who had been standing behind John and his team, hovering in the doorway, gave a short, small smile as he strode over to the Justicer, eyes not leaving his screen.

He held that screen out to Xerath, who nodded. "We have live visual of Adamant," she said, tapping on the larger screen of the console. Grainy, colour-washed video pulled up over the frozen images, six different feeds sliding out from one another, until they covered the full screen. Lines of static rolled in and out, the shaky footage following the movement of each fireteam member. Patchy audio started scratching out of the console's speakers, the visual lagging behind their barely-audible motion.

Xerath keyed her comm. "Fireteam Adamant, this is High Command, we have a live stream and are monitoring. How goes your progress?"

_"Adamant One, reporting."_ There was no way for John to tell which feed belonged to the responding voice. _"Hostile activity has increased in the foothills. Lots of air traffic around the mountains; darts. Believe we are approaching the target."_

Xerath's reply was brief. "Received."

All eyes in the room focused on the video feed, as the recon fireteam slowly and deliberately ascended a rocky escarpment. As they reached the peak they kept their profiles low, belly-crawling across a large distance, moving in increments. Roving lights lay ahead of them, and as they reached the other side of what John now registered as a mesa, peering through sparse vegetation, they saw laid out before them a large, shallow gorge, filled with battalions of wraith. The feed gradually panned across the one-and-a-half-kilometre divot in the land. Scout ships were settled in the canyon, with a further two of the strange spires assembled at forward placements.

_"Kilamest,"_ one of the fireteam soldiers breathed.

_"Command, are you seeing this?"_ Adamant One asked.

"Affirmative, visual on wraith strike force," the Justicer said.

Colonel Caldwell looked up at her, incredulous. "That's not a strike force, that's an invading army!"

"Disengage, Adamant," Xerath ordered, ignoring the Colonel. "Pull back to the city and await further orders."

_"Yes, ma'am."_

Attention in the room turned to Xerath, as Caldwell continued to stare at her, almost rudely.

"You can't think you can take on an infantry force of that size?" he pressed.

John mulled over the paused image on the screen, showing the scale of the assault that was to come. Something wasn't right about it.

"The Defence Corps was founded for this very battle, Colonel," Lord Farade said calmly. "We have been preparing for this day for the entire Departed Age."

Xerath started talking before Caldwell could respond. "Consulate Pacem, notify the Officers at the north Drawbridge that we'll need open passage, Commander Tylo, head over to the Protectorate Facility and marshal the land forces."

Pacem and Tylo saluted, and Pacem immediately got on comm while Tylo left the room.

Sheppard was still obsessing over the screenshots from the live feed. Suddenly, it clicked.

"They aren't jammers."

All eyes turned to him, some concerned, most confused.

"The tower spire thingies, they aren't jammers," Sheppard explained. "Look at their placement, they'd be too vulnerable to counter attack, and you can see here," he opened his fingers on the touch screen, zooming in, "they're assembling a third. That wouldn't make sense to build another jammer when the cannons are already benched. I think they're anti-air turrets, or at least the wraith equivalent."

"You're right," Ellis said, reviewing the images.

"So what's blocking the cannons then?" Rodney asked.

John shrugged.

"Perhaps something smaller, that we have overlooked," Teyla offered.

Rodney pushed Sheppard's hovering hand away from the screen. "Move." He began cycling through the video, slowing it down as it panned across the wraith-infested gorge. He spent a few minutes combing over the visor data, then called the assembled commanders' attention to a low-slung object, wraith in origin, barely visible behind one of the parked scout ships. "There. If we take a cloaked jumper we can run some scans to confirm."

"Their jammers are effecting the jumpers, too," Lorne said, "it'd be tricky flying."

Xerath pursed her lips. "I am going to be rude and ask even more of you, Lieutenant Colonel," she said, locking eyes with Sheppard. "I need you to make that run. Once we have confirmation we will prepare to roll on that target with the sunrise."

Sheppard glanced at Major Lorne, then at his team, who nodded. "We can do that," he said.

Xerath dipped her head, indicating her gratitude. "Very well. Colonels Caldwell, Ellis, we shall discuss Sheppard's changes to our original plan. I advise the rest of you turn in; it will be dawn in a few hours, and we have a very busy day ahead."

Lorne clapped a hand on John's shoulder. With a tight smile, Sheppard tilted his head towards the door and together, he, Ronon, Rodney, Teyla, and Evan left the room, heading for the hangar.


	17. Wolves and Jackals

Jumper One lay parked in the hangar, where Major Lorne had left it earlier that night. On their way, Sheppard and Lorne discussed the Atlantis personnel's casualties.

"Two jumpers were blown out of the sky last night. Their pilots were killed," Lorne said, "we've also lost a few men guarding the cannons. Some took indirect fire from the darts, others were scooped up."

Though it was hard to hear, John had to know. "How many?"

Evan heaved a sigh. "Seven confirmed KIA, eighteen missing presumed lost."

_I should have been here._ John pushed the thought down without looking at it too closely- time enough to reprimand himself later, if they survived this. They rounded the corner, and he held out his personal ID chip to the door's scanner, then strode into the hangar.

Lorne used the Puddlejumper's remote to open the rear hatch as they approached the small ship. Without prompting, Teyla fetched the first aid kit and dug out oral stimulants for the team. Popping the pills, they shared a water bottle to wash them down, and Sheppard took the pilot seat. Rodney moved automatically to co-pilot.

John held up a hand to stop him. "McKay, normally I'm happy to let you sit up front, but in this case Lorne needs to be ready to take over if anything happens."

Rodney hesitated. "If anything... happens?"

"I haven't slept in over thirty-seven hours, and I was tired before then," John said simply.

McKay blinked. "Right. I don't think being unconscious counts either." The physicist sat in the seat behind co-pilot while Lorne took the secondary controls. Teyla stared at Ronon for a moment, then accepted that the former Runner was content to stand, and took the last seat in the forward section.

John powered up the jumper as Lorne radioed Sky Fleet Command. He watched the HUD flicker, its readouts jumping all over the screen. "Fleet Com, Jumper One requesting flight path northbound out of the city from High Command."

_"Affirmative Jumper One, plotting northbound flight path exiting city airspace."_

In the intervening seconds, Lorne shot Sheppard a look. "You sure you're up for this?"

_"Uploading flight path. Safe travels Jumper One."_

As they took off through the hangar doors, Sheppard answered as honestly as he could, feeling the artificial stimulants combat his blunt exhaustion. "...No."

Lorne nodded, focusing on his task as co-pilot. They cloaked and flew out of the city in weary silence.

If he had thought to hope he might rest slightly on the flight to the northern mountains' foothills, then John would've been mistaken. As it was, Sheppard was firing on all pistons, constantly grappling for control over the usually responsive ship. The interference from the wraith's jammers had the ship's navigation systems scrambled, and John was struggling to stay on top of the malfunctions. On his right, Lorne's hands were dancing on the controls, doing his best to help keep them flying straight. While they flew over the dry forest the interference grew stronger, causing the ship to randomly slew about.

Rodney, watching their acrobatics, muttered something under his breath, then pulled out his LSD and stood, heading into the rear compartment.

"Will you keep it steady?" McKay yelled, as the jumper gave a particularly violent lurch, sending him stumbling into the wall.

"Doing our best, thanks!" Lorne snapped back.

Ronon, who had somehow managed not to fall over yet, sighed before stepping back with McKay. With his eyes fixed forward on the HUD and one hand on Rodney's shoulder, he steadied Rodney as the physicist pulled open an overhead hatch, exposing the crystalline innards of the craft.

"I'm going to-"

"Brace!" Ronon said, crouching slightly as the Puddlejumper lurched again. Rodney obeyed, absorbing the ship's movement through his knees.

McKay tried again. "I'm going to see what I can do to stabilise the guidance system," he called to John and Evan.

"Appreciate it," John said, his voice strained.

Whatever magic Rodney was able to work helped, and none too soon. As they drew closer to the Wraith's landing zone, enemy air traffic increased exponentially; small squads of darts patrolling the skies. Though their cloak thankfully seemed to be holding, they'd be spotted immediately if they hit another solid object, like a tree... or a rock... or a dart.

With tracking on the fritz, it was hard to be certain, but Sheppard thought they were getting close. Then he saw the roving search lights above the invading force, and his suspicions were confirmed. "Rodney," he called in a low voice, doing the best he could to make a steady, swooping arc around the wide canyon the Wraith forces were marshalling in.

Ronon moved out of the way, and Rodney came up behind his and Lorne's seats. Holding onto the back of Lorne's seat, McKay leaned over and accessed the co-pilot controls. "Come on, come on..." he murmured. All eyes fixed on the screen, waiting with baited breath as the scanners tried to identify the sequestered wraith device.

Unthinkingly, John slammed a fist on the console.

McKay gasped, glaring at Sheppard, before he was distracted as the jumper whined ominously. With a shudder, the HUD went blank. John's heart plummeted, but then-

Whirring, the HUD flicked back up, glitching worse than ever; yet there, flickering bravely in the middle of the screen was an analysis of the device.

"Rodney, tell me that's what we needed," John said.

"Oh, right, you'll do it for _him_," Rodney drawled at the screen.

"Rodney," John pressed.

"Yes, yes, that's confirmation." Rodney eyed the screen in irritation, then shook his head and sat down. Then the jumper dropped two feet.

"Crap." Sheppard pulled at the controls, trying to bring them level again.

Rodney jumped back to his feet. "You must have dislodged something," he called as he headed back to the rear section. As Ronon followed they could hear the physicist fiddling with the control conduits again.

"Do what you can, as fast as you can." Sheppard did his best to steer the ship back towards the city. "We have to bring this intel to High Command."

"Because the threat of crashing _again_ isn't enough motivation," Rodney retorted.

John smiled wryly, but said nothing. No use tempting fate, right?

Try as he might, Rodney couldn't bring the Puddlejumper back under control, as its movements became more and more erratic, beginning to throw its pilots around in their seats. Ronon grabbed hold of McKay with two hands, and pushed him down onto one of the benches, dropping beside him and locking his grip, one hand across Rodney's chest, the other latched onto a handhold in the fuselage.

_Crap crap crap crap crap. _Sheppard fought hard with the controls, feeling his left shoulder wrench on a particularly nasty jolt.

"Screw this." Lorne reached over to John's side of the console, dialing up the inertial dampeners way beyond their recommended operating range, until it felt like there was an elastic band wrapped around their rib cages, constricting their breath. John felt his ears pop. But it worked, the dampeners overcoming the sharp lurches of the jumper trying to follow what it thought the 'correct' flight path should be.

"Are you trying to burst my eardrums?" McKay yelled, but the pressure in John's ear canals muffled his words.

Lorne briefly twisted in his seat, looking over his shoulder. "Fix up the ship a bit and we can tone the dampeners back down," he advised.

Rodney set to work cautiously, and within a few minutes had things running a little smoother. "That'll have to do it," the physicist said, walking up and adjusting the inertial dampeners down himself. "We're not much further out from the city now."

John nodded, then yawned, equalising the pressure in his ears. Sure enough, the towers grew tall on the horizon, and the interference thinned out a little. Rodney patted John's shoulder encouragingly, then hastened to sit down. Ronon remained standing, both arms braced on overhead hand rungs.

Lorne activated his radio. "Jumper One returning to Protegan city air space, request flight path to High Command."

_"Jumper One, please lower cloak so we can lock onto your position."_

John deactivated the cloak. "Whoops."

_"Plotting flight path... Uploading flight path. Welcome back, Jumper One."_

Lorne smiled as he responded. "Glad to have made it back in one piece."

The radio crackled, then the familiar voice of the Justicer chimed in. _"Atlantis Reconnaissance One, Major Lorne, have you confirmed our target?"_

"Affirmative, Justicer." Lorne replied.

_"Copied. Upload the data to High Command's servers, then head to the Protectorate Facility and get some sleep. Tomorrow we take back this planet."_

* * *

Sheppard woke to a pounding headache. Wincing as he sat up, he accepted the after-effects of using artificial stimulants philosophically. He was a grown man who lived with the consequences of his decisions, or at least that was what he tried to convince himself.

He nodded silently as the occupants of the three other beds in the room arose in varying states of alertness. John, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon had shared a room in the Protectorate Facility for the four hours, twenty-two minutes of rest they had been allowed. Really only just enough sleep for their muscles to tighten, becoming sore and stiff. _Yay..._

Ronon turned off the insistently beeping alarm, right as the Colonel's Protegan com unit activated and Pacem's voice filled the room.

_"Atlantis Reconnaissance One, report to the Protectorate hangar in fifteen minutes."_

"Do you ever sleep Atheon?" John responded, only half joking.

_"No."_

Shaking his head at Atheon's ascetic reply, Sheppard forced his recalcitrant body out of bed, pulling on his scuffed, dirty boots. As he stood, he stretched his arms, felt his shoulder crack a few times, and dragged his shirt on.

At some point after the scant seconds it had taken him to fall asleep, someone had been in their room, and organised and restocked their vests and tactical gear. There was even a full set of USAF gear set out for Ronon, which the Satedan ignored, dressing in his own clothes. Mechanically and swiftly, John decked himself out, falling into the old pattern of the drills he had once lived by as a cadet. When he was done, he stood at attention, then remembered he was the highest-ranking officer in the room and relaxed, as first Teyla then Rodney finished gearing up.

Clipping a P90 to his vest, relishing having the familiar weapon on hand, Sheppard led his team out into the busy hallways, where fully-equipped Protegan soldiers were moving in droves, many headed to the hangar, most to the vehicle depots. Lorne called out from behind them, his own team in tow, prepped for the mission ahead.

Weaving around the soldiers, the two Recon teams ducked into the nearest mess hall, where they ate a hasty breakfast with clusters of fireteams. Some looked like they were heading in, their tired faces and dusty uniforms indicating a long night in the wilderness. Others were in a similar position as the Lantean teams, though admittedly fresher-faced than they.

They finished eating with six minutes left to get to the hangar, and Sheppard ruefully hustled them into a light jog, swept along by the evenly-paced jogging of the Protegan fireteams. The taut energy in the air twanged with anticipation. John wondered if the men and women around them knew just how high the stakes were.

When they reached the hangar, its huge doors stood open, and avems took off out of them in turn, one behind the other. Standing in front of the five remaining Puddlejumpers, Atheon called the Lanteans over. As they approached him, Atheon called out to the other three teams slotted to fly air support with them.

"Consulate," Sheppard greeted. "Where's Commander Fireforge?"

"The gladius support party is due to take off from Sky Fleet Command shortly," Pacem replied, holding up a hand to stall further conversation.

Consulate Pacem waited until all Atlantis personnel were present, then continued. "Deployments are being finalised, and you'll have full mission details uploaded to your Puddlejumpers at minus ten minutes to assault launch. The official notes are such," he paused, holding his left arm parallel to his torso and read from his screen. "Protegat is under attack from both aerial and land bound fronts. Pursuant to the Comminatio Protocol Magister Protector Justicer Dianna Xerath has ordered the full military response of the Protegan Defence Service Corps. As allies of Protegat, the current terrestrial inhabitants of Atlantis are lending their full support to this defence. With the use of Orbital Defence blocked by the wraith forces via complex sensor jamming, the Defence Corps is issuing a full retaliatory response encompassing all assets of the Corps. Fireteams are preparing to roll on the wraith's staging site through use of terra vagari military vehicles. Ten gladius interceptor class fighter jets and five Puddlejumper ancestral class transport ships will be providing air support for their assault. USAF _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ battle ships stand by to move once land assault objective is achieved; the destruction of hostile jamming device. The intent of this objective is to free Orbital Defence to destroy what at present time remains of Protegat's moon, as the wraith hive ships continue to use the moon and its debris field as interference, keeping their ships out of target sights. Then, Orbital Defence will fire upon the wraith hives and destroy them."

Atheon paused, looking up from his screen. "Colonel Sheppard, your puddlejumpers are to advance in time with the ground assault. Based on the data obtained by reconnaissance teams last night, we advise you to expect air resistance. The gladius fighters, being faster and more armed than the jumpers, will be clearing the lane ahead of you. You are to focus on the darts, keep them from stopping the ground forces. When the assault team reaches the foothills the jumpers are to fall back to the city; we've deemed that to be the closest range they can handle the jammers at based on your experience last night." The wrist-mounted device beeped again, demanding the consulate's attention. "Commander Fireforge is taking off from Sky Fleet Command, the terra vagari are leaving the Protectorate Facility. It's time."

John nodded. "Let's move." He strode through the open rear hatch of Jumper One and took the helm, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon following. As he grabbed the controls, the HUD flashed, and received a communique from High Command bearing the Justicer's authentication code; the finalised details. As Rodney read the Ancient writing aloud, John instructed the HUD to display a countdown to mission start.

When Rodney finished speaking, Sheppard considered the plan of action.

"I mean, it's all pretty loose," McKay commented.

John chuckled, "And are our mission briefs ever any more specific?"

"No," Rodney said, "but this is a freaking invasion."

"Which means everything's up in the air."

"Even our survival?" Rodney asked quietly.

John stared at the countdown, before he answered in a low voice. "Maybe. But if I have any say in it, then survival is a given."

A minute passed in silence.

"Then we're operating under normal circumstances."

Sheppard's lips pulled into a wry grin. "Your faith is humbling, McKay."

"Then you better get ready to humbly take off so you can humbly complete the mission," Rodney drawled.

John tossed his head indulgently, then activated the jumper's comm system. "Alright jumpers, let me take the lead. We'll fly in V formation. Use your drones sparingly and don't get further than a klick out from the ground assault team. Fly safe and shoot straight, we'll kick the wraith off Protegat yet."

The other jumper pilots confirmed transmission, then the counter read 00:00.

_"Green light, Colonel."_ Atheon commed, and John powered up the jumper proper. The HUD flickered, still suffering the effects of the wraith jammer. Better rested and with an idea what to expect, John stayed on top of the malfunctions as he took off, shooting out of the now-empty hangar. Jumpers Two, Three, Four, and Six followed and formed up behind Jumper One. Rushing out into the pre-dawn light, Sheppard led the jumpers north to hook-up with the rest of the assault body.

They reached the outer city limits just as the terra vagari, the Protegan light-weight all-terrain assault vehicles, broke free of the farmland and accelerated into the wilderness. They had five and a half kilometres of open hills to cover before they would plunge into the dry forest. John had his doubts about how quickly the dune buggie-esq cars would travel through the underbrush, but he trusted that the Defence Corps knew what they were doing.

"They're insane!" Rodney remarked.

Too busy to look where the physicist was looking, John just asked instead. "What?"

"Those cars only seat two people, plus one gunner on the rear turrets," McKay said.

"And?"

"They've got full fireteams riding!"

John frowned, eyes glued to the horizon. "Oh yeah, you didn't participate in the war games," he said, then continued when Rodney was silent. "They're trained to drive that way; driver, shotgun, gunner, bumper jumper, and suicide sides. I'll admit I thought they were crazy too when I first saw them." John didn't have to look down at the distant vehicles, the imagery was easy to remember; the mean-looking cars overflowing with even meaner troops. Two in actual seats, one standing at the turret, one sitting facing backwards on the bumper watching their six, and two _hanging on one-handed on either side, _brandishing their impetus rifles in their free hand, like something out of a _Mad Max_ movie.

Rodney scoffed derisively. "You couldn't pay me enough to-" The HUD beeped a warning, belayed that, then repeated it.

"Eyes up!" Sheppard ordered. "Darts incoming, it's show time."

The wraith fighters came screaming at them, swooping low for a culling run.

"I don't think so," Sheppard growled, loosing a drone at the closest dart. Thankfully their accuracy wasn't too impeded by the jammers.

_Boom._

The sound pre-dated the explosion, and as a smaller blast echoed back to them, John realised what the first sound had been. Fireforge's gladius had swooped around, curving viciously through the air, chasing the darts from their own base.

_"Welcome to the party,"_ the Protegan Commander hailed. _"Try not to bail out before the after party this time."_

Blasting a second, then third dart from the veritable swarm of wraith fighters encompassing the air, Sheppard's response was short. "Only if there's popcorn."

_"Colonel," _Lorne hailed. _"There's a lot more flack than we anticipated."_

"I noticed that," Sheppard replied, as one of the terra vagaris was blown up. Two more klicks and the vehicles would reach the cover of the trees. "Break up formation and make some noise."

_"Roger."_ The jumpers dispersed, and John let out a string of drones, guiding them into individual darts as best he could. The contested sky filled with explosions as the sun broke over the horizon, shedding golden light on the perverse fireworks. The gladius dominated the scene as they harried the darts, their huge black bodies streaking past every which-way, screaming through the air in sharp twists and turns, wolves hunting through the air. The smaller jumpers flitted in between the jets, jackals picking through whatever slipped past the wolves, their drones cleaving the air, pursuing the darts with accuracy beyond anything achievable by computer-guided missiles.

The ground assault dived into the forest, and the darts tried to break off, back to their staging site. The skies thinned.

_"You Lanteans can handle it from here, right?"_ Fireforge asked.

"Affirmative," Sheppard said, blowing another dart out of the sky as he took stock of how many drones he had left.

_"Catch you later then."_ Fireforge's gladius tore after the retreating darts, and the jumpers mopped up what was left.

"Back in formation," Sheppard ordered. He scanned to see where the ground assault was up to, and was surprised by the progress they had made. The trees had slowed them down minimally, as though they could drive through the forest in their sleep. Home field advantage.

Be that as it was, the jumpers caught up to them easily.

_"Darts are regrouping," _Fireforge informed them, _"there's a squadron heading back out to meet- hells below! Evasive manoeuvres, evasive manoeuvres!"_ A short break in the transmission, then- _"Heads up jumpers, they've got ground-to-air defensive cannons set up. Sheppard, you were right about those spires- they're turrets!"_

"Acknowledged." Sheppard replied, as the dart squadron came within sensor range.

"Crap," Rodney said, "they came prepared." He swallowed, then hailed Fireforge. "Commander, how powerful are the wraith cannons?"

_"Very," _came the terse reply. _"I'm down three fighters... Can't get a clean shot at them, there's too much-" _The transmission cut off abruptly.

"Commander!" Sheppard exclaimed.

Silence, then the closing darts opened fire, distracting Sheppard. He let loose another drone, and _damn_, it fought his guidance, shifting so fast it was nearly vibrating as it kept trying to peel off course. The Colonel's headache ratcheted up several notches, and in the end he only clipped the dart, not even enough to irritate it. Across the jumper squad, the other Lantean pilots were facing the same difficulties.

"Change of plan," he commed. "Fall back a bit, draw the darts to where we stand a solid chance of hitting them."

_"Roger that,"_ four voices replied.

Sheppard turned the ship. "How's our hull integrity?" he asked McKay.

"Not great," the physicist responded. "Better not fly in a straight line."

"Never planned on it." Sheppard zig-zagged in the air, side to side, up and down. He was a target, yes, but he was a moving target, one that would very much not like to be shot. The HUD stabilised a little, and Sheppard called it. "Turn and fire!"

The five jumpers pivoted mid-air, firing at their pursuing predators. With less interference, the drones flew true, and decimated the leading darts. "Break up!" Sheppard commanded, and the jumpers split apart again, engaging the remaining enemy fighters individually.

_"Sheppard!" _Fireforge hailed. _"I can't reach Command, but we're getting thrashed out here." _The transmission was awash with static, but Sheppard could just make out the Commander's breathless words._ "If we don't pull out soon there'll be no-one left. Contact the Justicer and let her know my speedheads _have_ to regroup. We have to get the message to the ground force that if they want air support they have to take out the anti-air cannons or we can't help them."_

"I'll comm her immediately-"

_"There's three of them, and they pack a ferding hard punch. Gamma squad is completely gone, I've got four gladius left, I had to make the call," _Fireforge said desperately.

"Understood." Sheppard said. He hated that he didn't have any time to console the Commander. McKay activated the puddlejumper's comm, the Ancient-to-Ancient tech the only long-range communications working in their sector. The colonel nodded his thanks. "Justicer Xerath, this is Colonel Sheppard."

_"Recieving,"_ the Justicer replied.

"The gladius squads have had to pull out; the wraith have three anti-air cannons that shot down over half of their fighters," Sheppard said. "Commander Fireforge is asking the ground team to destroy the cannons."

_"Hells."_ The Justicer paused. _"We cannot divert any more resources to deal with this. Have the gladius fall back to zone two and leave this line open, we'll get back to you shortly."_

"Yes ma'am." Sheppard shot down another dart, narrowly evading fire from one of its buddies while Rodney forwarded the message to Fireforge.

The skies were nearly clear when the Justicer contacted them. _"Colonel, divert three jumpers. Cloak and infiltrate the staging site ahead of the ground assault and disable those cannons."_

"We'll take care of it." Sheppard replied, then turned off the long-range comms. Every ounce of power counted. Jumper Six shot the last two darts in one amazing move, clipping one so it crashed heavily into the other.

Sheppard hailed his squad. "Jumper Two, Jumper Four, cloak and head for the staging site, we've got a new objective."


	18. Never Gonna Catch My Breath

Timed to the last second. That's what they had to be. Completely in-sync, three limbs of one entity. With such a large force of wraith on the ground, if any of the three anti-air cannons had so much as a second of forewarning, they would be screwed. Sheppard drilled this message into all their heads, including his own, over and over as the three cloaked jumpers powered towards their targets.

"Be sure to call out when you touch dirt," he said over comms. "We all leave our ships at the same time, and only move on the enemy AA batteries once we all have eyes on target. Local radio should still work, so hold off until I give the green light." Behind him, Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney braced in their seats as the ride grew more and more turbulent.

Closing in, grateful there were far less darts in the air than when they were last in these skies mere hours ago, Sheppard headed for the middle wraith turret while Jumpers Two and Four split off after the western and eastern turrets. As they came into range, he and McKay stared out the view screen desperately, looking for the first viable set-down.

"There," Rodney said, pointing to a stacked mess of boulders, forming a rough outcropping below the escarpment.

"Not fantastic," Sheppard mumbled, then shrugged. "Take what you can get."

He carefully set the bucking jumper down on the south side of the boulders, wincing at the grate of metal on stone. The rocks would provide some cover for the jumper.

"Jumper One landed." John sent the short transmission to the other jumpers.

McKay eased his grip off the co-pilot console. "Well, we made it in one piece, which is more than I expected. But now what? How do we reach the turrets unspotted?'

While Ronon and Teyla fetched ammo from storage in the rear compartment, Sheppard stared sceptically out at the beautiful clear morning. Absolutely nothing impaired visibility today. Like every day they had spent caught out in the wilderness, a warm sunny day pervaded the air.

Lorne hailed. _"Jumper Two landed."_

"There's no easy way to do it, and no easy way to say this," Sheppard paused, pursing his lips. "We have to climb the escarpment, then just straight-up leg it to the turret. In-and-out, hard-and-fast, torch-and-burn."

It gave him no pleasure to watch McKay squirm under each descriptor. If he was honest with himself, John didn't think Rodney was physically capable of the run. Hell, he didn't really think _he himself_ was physically capable of it. But the thought of untrained Rodney trying to rush up the treacherous boulders, bare rock, and loose gravel without breaking an ankle...

"I want you to stay in the jumper," he said firmly.

"What? And let you three poke a beehive!" McKay asked angrily.

Sheppard quickly thought of a viable excuse. "And be ready to take off the second we're back on board."

"Oh, so you _are_ planning on surviving?" McKay quietened for a moment, and John could almost see the gears turning in his head. "Fine," Rodney finally said, "but only because I can't come up with a better plan."

"Thank-you," Sheppard said as he stood and stretched. "As always, orders are more of a suggestion than a command from your team leader. I appreciate that you decided to follow this one."

Giving his left shoulder a quick stretch, John caught a look from Teyla that clearly warned him to back off the sarcasm. He gave a wry smile in return, then checked his P90 was primed and safely secured to his vest.

_"Jumper Four Landed."_

Sheppard leaned over the controls. "Good job guys, finalise your attack plans then call in again. Jumper One is ready."

_"Affirmative."_

_"Understood."_

Moving to the rear section, Sheppard double-checked his vest's supplies. Grenades, C-4, field bandages, three P90 magazines, four clips for his Colt pistol, his Protegan ID chip, and power bars. Everything was in its place. When he ran out of things to fidget with, he stood tense. Rodney had moved to pilot seat while he was pre-occupied, taking the getaway driver task seriously. With nothing to do but wait he grew rigid, his stressful stillness mirrored by Teyla and Ronon.

_"Jumper Four is ready."_

Rodney bounced a leg impatiently, the inconsistent tapping of his heel against the grated jumper floor both annoyed and comforted John.

_"Jumper Two is ready."_

Sheppard slapped the control for the rear hatch and activated his radio. "Move out."

Saying nothing more, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon bolted out the hatch, running full-pelt in such a steep turn that Sheppard nearly fell over. After rounding the boulders the jumper was parked behind, they straightened into a dead heat, then leapt up on the rocks at the base of the escarpment, building on the momentum of their sprint. Teyla and Ronon moved fast, sure-footed as they climbed, jumped, and scrambled up the rocky incline. Breathing hard, Sheppard was only one step behind. Having sensation limited in his right leg meant he had to test his footing, and that left knee was making its own problems known.

_Just a little further, just a little more to go._ He shut down that thought process, locking his mind on his breath, his heart beat. He couldn't think about the finish line; he had to focus on moving. The finish line meant stopping, and he _would not stop._ Not until the threat was dealt with.

As the trio neared the crest of the rise, they lowered themselves to their bellies, crawling, dragging themselves along the ground. They would not present their silhouettes to the wraith. Inching into position, they set their sights on the anti-air turret.

Taking a minute to bring his breath under control, Sheppard twitched, itching to wipe the sweat off his brow, but willed himself to remain still. Movement while on the mesa would draw the eye of the enemy.

Finally, he keyed his radio. "AR-1 eyes on target."

As they lay in silence, guns held at the ready as though they were snipers, they watched the few wraith guarding the turret. In the swiftly heating sunlight, John cursed the black uniforms they wore. At least the dust and grit from the climb had clung to their clothes and skin. However irritating it might be, it provided some measure of camouflage. Not much, but better than nothing.

_"AR-5 eyes on target."_

A fly buzzed around, so deprived of moisture it tried to get in their eyes. _Stay still, stay relaxed. Don't move._

_"AR-2 eyes on target."_

Grabbing his radio through his vest pocket, Sheppard gave the order. "Green light, green light to engage!"

Ronon leapt up, firing at the nearest wraith guard, Teyla and Sheppard less than a second behind him. As he and Teyla let off short bursts of P90 fire and sprinted after Ronon, who was already rushing towards the turret, dropping down the short decline, the sound of distant rapid arms-fire carried down, echoing in the gorge. There were few times John thought he had ever run so hard in his life.

Running and firing. Firing and running. At such speeds, the best they could manage was suppressing fire, but the idea wasn't to kill wraith. They merely had to survive while disabling the AA battery. Ronon was close to reaching the door, his long legs carrying him across the distance easier than Teyla and John.

Ronon reached the skeletal door to the turret and- _damn_, it opened, as a further three wraith made to come out. Ronon didn't seem to hesitate and Sheppard watched in amazement as Ronon straight-up tackled the wraith, bowling them over and back inside. Feet drumming the ground, arms pumping by his side, Sheppard didn't dare try to shoot the wraith as they untangled from Ronon and stood up. Ronon came up with his feet wide, crouched with a hunting dagger in hand.

Sheppard and Teyla stumbled heavily out of their sprint, P90s swinging wildly from their vests as they drew their sidearms. Quickly steadying their aim, they each shot at the wraith either side of Ronon while the former Runner hamstrung the third wraith, then moved the dagger in a blindingly fast series of movements. Chest, arm, feeding hand, chest, thigh, neck. The wraith dropped beneath the onslaught, and Ronon brought his blaster back up.

Two shots from the blaster, several from Sheppard and Teyla's pistols, and they had the room to themselves. Breathing hard, Sheppard and Teyla reloaded their P90s, then had their first chance to look around. What they saw wasn't that impressive.

"Looks," Sheppard paused, still panting, "looks like we're in any number of wraith constructs."

Ronon nudged the Colonel's arm to get his attention. "This way."

He led John and Teyla to a door in the middle of the far wall, shot it, then pried it open.

They emerged in a large room, mostly empty. The only object of note was a large glowing node on the ceiling. Sheppard looked at it, then looked at Ronon. "C-4?"

Ronon nodded.

Sheppard rolled his head back, judging the distance. The node was out of his reach, so he passed his C-4 over to Ronon after slapping a detonator on it.

Ronon jumped, C-4 in one hand, the other stretching above him. His outstretched hand latched onto a groove in the node, then Ronon pulled himself up, muscles straining, until he could reach his other hand up to tuck the explosive into the niche the groove provided. With that done, the Satedan dropped ten centimetres, back to the ground.

"Well, that oughtta do it," Sheppard said with a satisfied nod. "Time to run." He gripped his P90, holding the gun at the ready, then cautiously led the team back out. As he peered outside at the bright, dusty surroundings, he saw wraith headed their way, but many more were hustling around. An explosion echoed from the east, and further out to the south the sound of engines roared.

"The attacking force is drawing close!" Teyla shouted.

Sheppard fired a stream of bullets at the approaching wraith. As they ducked for cover, Sheppard yelled. "Let's move! Go go go!"

They sprinted again, thighs burning, lungs screaming, each breath tearing through their throats, as they clawed their way up the shallow incline. Then they crossed the short flat of the mesa and dropped down, beginning the far more dangerous descent of the escarpment. John blew the C-4, partly to make sure the wraith didn't find it and save their turret, but mostly to delay their pursuers.

As the explosion boomed behind them, they climbed back down as quick as they could, knowing they _had_ to get out of the combat zone before the two larger forces collided. Wherever they could, they took the risk of skidding down slides of gravel, but they were few and far between. _Crap crap crap._

When they cleared the escarpment, they simply had to pick themselves up running, making a beeline for the boulders Rodney waited behind in the jumper. A third explosion from the west signalled the destruction of the last turret, and they rounded the boulders, nearly crying out in relief at the sight of McKay, hanging out of the cloaked jumper's hatch, a guide to the safety the jumper offered. They tumbled inside, collapsing on the floor. Laying on his back, taking deep, heaving breaths, Sheppard was aware of the jumper taking off, Rodney cursing at the helm as he felt the difficulty of flying through the interference firsthand.

As McKay flew the ship back to rendezvous with the rest of the jumper squad, Sheppard thought he heard the physicist talking on the coms, first to Jumper Two and Jumper Four, and then to Commander Fireforge, but it was too indistinct for him to make out exactly what was said. The roaring of blood in his ears took a while to abate, and in the meanwhile he wanted nothing but to suck in as much oxygen as he could. When he'd recovered enough, John tossed his P90 on the bench and fetched two bottles of water each for the three of them, then sat wearily beside the discarded rifle, gulping down the first bottle, and nursed the second.

With the pressing need for fluids quenched, Sheppard hauled himself up off the bench, grabbing onto anything for handholds as he stumbled to the forward section of the craft. The jumper swayed as John threw himself into co-pilot seat, and he shot McKay a look. "Harder than it looks, right?" he said shrewdly.

"Yeah, yeah," McKay said. "Any time you wanna take the wheel back..."

Sheppard laughed. "I've fulfilled my work quota for the month, thanks."

As Teyla and Ronon filed in, taking their seats, Rodney snorted derisively. "You're not the only one, when we get back to Atlantis I'm-"

He cut off as the remaining gladius fighters screamed past them, headed back to the wraith staging site. _"My speedheads and I owe you and your teams big time, Colonel Sheppard. We won't forget this," _Commander Fireforge hailed.

"No favours, Commander," Sheppard responded, "we're all working towards the same goal."

_"Well, I disagr- talk more later, approaching target. Fireforge out."_

Sheppard shook his head indulgently, then turned his mind to other matters. "McKay, have you been in touch with the _Daedalus_ and _Appollo_?"

"Believe it or not, yes, I have actually been on top of those side details. We, as in the jumpers, have orders to return to the city. The remaining darts in-atmosphere have been trying to take out the canons. One can only assume the wraith have figured out what we're up to in trying to take out their jammer, and are looking to take the canons out of play permanently."

"So we're to back up the avems then?"

"Got in in one."

"Okay," Sheppard said, "I guess I'll take over for you then." The two then went through the complicated process of trying to keep the jumper from crashing while switching pilots. After performing something of a contortionist act, Sheppard resumed control of Jumper One, sending the small ship shooting through the sky.

As they approached the city John took aim at the nearest darts, which were zipping around the slower avems, taking the larger force down with ease. As he loosed his first drone, the jumper HUD cleared of interference, and a victorious call came over their Protegan comms.

_"Enemy gag destroyed, repeat, enemy gag destroyed. Ground force primary objective complete, moving to secondary objectives."_

"Oh thank God," Rodney breathed. Teyla gave a relieved laugh while Ronon punched Sheppard's arm, grinning wildly. John smiled his own elation as he guided the drone to destroy his targeted dart.

_"Orbital Defence, commence destruction of moon, then blast the parasites out of the sky," _Justicer Xerath ordered over open comms. _"Hold together, soldiers. One final effort is all that remains."_

Banking and weaving through the massive spires and towers of the Protegan city, pursuing the wraith darts with a fury, the view of the cannons was limited from Jumper One, until they burst out on the other side of the city.

The four cannons visible from their position moved in eerie synchronicity, aligning _just so._ Jumper One's hunt of the darts took them in a circle, arcing around the city, offering visual on more of the canons, all moving with odd grace as they targeted the remnants of the shattered moon; a large, craggy semi-circle trailing its own rocky guts hanging pale in the purple-gold-cyan-washed blue sky.

Without warning, the Ancient AI Atidum projected his quadwing phoenix avatar onto the HUD, addressing the squadron of jumpers, its double-timbre voice sounding ominous as the cannons whined and whirred, the charge building audibly. _"Lantean Puddlejumpers, be warned; you should expect excessive turbulence when the explosive shockwave reaches you. Land immediately if possible. Orbital Defences fires in three... two... one."_

The noise of the ten canons discharging their weaponised energy simultaneously was catastrophic, apocalyptic. With no-where to land in time to wait out the coming storm, John took a deep breath, bracing to ride it out. Releasing the air in his lungs, he focused all his senses on the jumper. The energy rushed towards the moon...


	19. Is This the End?

If you had been standing, as Justicer Xerath stood, on the highest balcony of the tallest tower in the city- the High Command spire, to witness the explosion, you might have seen a sudden hole punched in the nebula. A hole of pure, sky-blue light piercing the multi-hued gasses that had hidden her planet for so long.

If you had stood where she stood, you would have felt your teeth rattle, your bones tremble, the building beneath you shudder, the glass around you crack under the pressure of the shockwave that reached you within milliseconds.

Had you been in Dianna's place, you might have mumbled a half-forgotten prayer to higher powers long abandoned, watching a smattering of bright, ice-white starbursts of light dance in the place of the remnant moon that had orbited your planet for countless millennia until mere moments ago.

You may have even doubted your choice with bated breath for a split-second, before the sound of the explosion reached you and, vibrating within your hollow chest, knocked the air from your lungs like a punch to the diaphragm. And as that sound wave rumbled, you would have ducked, throwing your arms over your head as the much-strained glass windows of the upper levels of the city finally gave out, showering their shattered fragments everywhere.

Battling for control over his jumper, Sheppard neither saw nor felt any of this.

"Rodney, what made power short out?" the Colonel yelled as the jumper plummeted towards the buildings below, the HUD spitting light and obscuring the viewscreen.

"It's possible that so many cannons discharging at once sent out a burst of-" he cut off with a curse as the display flickered. "It's Atidum! The city AI! What the hell is it doing?"

"Can you kick it out of the systems before it crashes us?"

"Shh I'm working on it." McKay was silent as he worked furiously over the controls. All light in the ship died, then the jumper booted back up. "Got it. It can get back in though, so we need to-"

_"Colonel Sheppard, are you okay? There's something wrong with Atidum,"_ Consulate Pacem commed.

"We noticed, but what the hell is it doing? Why'd it try to crash us?" Sheppard angrily asked as he yanked on the controls and straightened the jumper, pulling out of its plummet then looking around for the nearest place to land.

Atheon's response was curt. _"We don't know. We're looking into it."_

As John spied a safe platform he could land the jumper on, he also saw the defence cannons re-orient, and a low thrum built over five seconds before the weapons discharged, setting his ears ringing. He had just touched the jumper down when the Protegan comm activated again.

_"Orbital Defence reporting, some of the wraith vessels are attempting to flee-" _the officer was cut off as a dozen other comm systems went off.

_"This is Colonel Caldwell of the _Daedalus_\- the wraith hives are under attack from a third party."_

_"Colonel Ellis reporting, one of the hives is destroyed, we didn't land a shot on it."_

_"Sky Fleet registering unknown signals-"_

_"-Hundreds of drones in the sky, targeting the wraith ships-"_

_"Atidum is non-responsive-"_

_"All Ancient systems are freezing up-"_

_"-Losing control over Orbital Defence-"_

_"Pacem, get me answers!"_

_"Sorry Justicer, our tech officers are stumped-"_

_"The city is going static-"_

_"Can't register the vessels-"_

_"Origins unknown-"_

_"Where did they come from?"_

_"Sheppard!" _Caldwell yelled over radio. _"Aurora-Class Ancient Battle Ships! It's the Replicators!"_

John felt his blood run cold.

_No no no no no. Oh God please no._

The thought could not deny the reality. Sheppard threw his eyes to the sky in desperation, where distant explosions flared and died and flared again. Frozen with horror, he stared at the orbital battle as though he could see past it, as though some saviour lay beyond, but there was nothing. Nothing but the damnation of fate, that they should fight so hard, only to lose it all regardless.

It had all been in vain.

Just like that, Sheppard switched. Snapping out of his reverie, John slammed down on the comm button. "Justicer Xerath, order all civilians to prepare for immediate evacuation."

_"Colonel?"_ Xerath challenged.

"I'm sorry, but we can't fight the Replicators. Our only chance is to get everyone off-planet. Move now while they're still distracted by the Wraith."

Xerath was quiet for a moment. _"... Affirmative,"_ she said, her voice heavy._ "Ordering full evacuation via Stargate Control."_

John nodded to himself, his brain running a thousand miles a minute. "Colonel Caldwell, Colonel Ellis?"

_"Receiving,"_ Caldwell responded.

Ellis replied, _"Go ahead, Sheppard."_

"If Orbital Defence holds off the Replicators for as long as possible, can you start ferrying people off-world?" John asked, knowing they didn't have time to get everyone through the stargate.

_"We can do that,"_ Ellis said, _"But we'll have to land to take on passengers; I don't fancy letting shields down so close to the Replicators."_

Sheppard's next request went to Xerath at High Command. "Justicer, can you have Sky Fleet use civilian transport ships to transfer evacuees to wherever the 304's choose as their L-Z?"

_"Affirmative,"_ the Justicer answered, _"Colonels, how many can your ships carry?"_

Ellis responded first. _"_Apollo_ has room for eighteen hundred."_

_"_Daedalus _will reach maximum capacity with the addition of seventeen hundred,"_ Caldwell replied.

_"That will barely put a dent in the number of evacuees,"_ Xerath lamented.

_"That's what happens when you place over one hundred thousand refugees among a population of two hundred thousand,"_ Caldwell pointed out.

_"That is not helpful, Colonel,"_ Xerath snapped.

Sheppard intervened. "Let's just get moving people. McKay and I will head to the nearest cannon and see what we can do about slowing the Replicators down."

_"Large amounts of the Ancestral city are out of commission," _Xerath cautioned, _"however if McKay can do anything to help, contact Pacem. I have placed him in charge of restoring whatever functions possible."_

"Got it, Sheppard out." John powered up the jumper's engines, heading straight to Cannon Nine.

Rodney exchanged a glance with the Colonel, then activated his Protegan commlink. "Atheon, how's it going?"

_"We've isolated and locked down Atidum, though we've still no answer for its behaviour. Unfortunately many systems remain offline despite our efforts."_

"At least the AI is secured. Can you send whatever diagnostics you have to my tablet?"

_"In a moment. Rodney," _Atheon paused, _"how bad is it? How bad are we going to be hit?"_

Sheppard caught Rodney's panicked look. John hardly knew what to say, either. Seeing McKay flounder, he gave it a shot anyway. "Atheon," he began.

_"Colonel?" _The outright fear and accusation in Pacem's tone tripped John up. _"Is it true you've ordered a full evacuation of the planet?"_

"Why?" Sheppard asked defensively, "You want to know if we're losing?"

_"I know we're losing,"_ Atheon said sharply, before his tone softened, saddened, _"I want to know if we've lost."_

_Crap._ What on earth could John say to that? He sighed heavily. "We lost the planet the second the Replicators arrived," he admitted, "but if we can evacuate as many civilians as we can, then maybe..." He trailed off, unable to speak the rest out loud. _Then maybe someday we can forgive ourselves._

_"I'd better get back to it,"_ Pacem said after a moment, _"I'll get those readouts sent to you when I have a second to spare."_

Feeling powerless in the weighted silence that drew out excruciatingly, Sheppard parked on the Ring wall that held the orbital defence cannons. With legs of lead, he trudged out of the jumper, his team following behind him. As they approached Cannon Nine, McKay struck ahead, leading Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla, who were still exhausted from their escapades at the wraith staging site less than thirty minutes ago.

They were greeted by the defending fireteams assigned to the cannon as it gave a deafening bark; Orbital Defence still at its job, trying to hold off the Replicator warships. In the momentary silence, alarms activated through the city, a haunting dual-note.

_"Citizens of Protegat,"_ Xerath's voice echoed across the space between the central spire and the ring-wall. _"This is Magister Protector Justicer Xerath, addressing the city under the authority of the Comminatio Protocol. It is with a heavy heart I must order the complete evacuation of the planet. An enemy we were never prepared for is perched to destroy our civilisation. Directions for your city district's evacuation are being relayed to all personal devices. I have faith you will follow the instructions in a calm and orderly manner, and that you will do as we have always done in acting with consideration and compassion for your neighbours; that no one shall hold their importance greater than those around them."_

Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, and McKay listened in grim silence to the Justicer's address.

_"To the brave members of the Service Corps, I apologise for all that I and my Council have asked of you these last days of Protegat. I express my gratitude for the effort and sacrifice you have expended in the fulfilment of your sworn duty to Protegat, and I ask that you continue to hold strong, and to know that none shall forget all that was given in your service. To the Defence Corps, the most steadfast and honourable service officers, those that have given their lives over to the civilians they protect; to fall in service is to rise in ascension, to fight fear is to give courage. Through passing we achieve immortality, today, tomorrow, forever. You will _never_ fade. Quod gladios autem quod arma."_

"The swords of the shield," McKay murmured.

Sheppard shot him a questioning look.

Rodney shook his head. "It's... nothing."

"It is the Defence Corps' motto," Teyla answered quietly, "once a prayer to the Ancestors for strength, it is now used as a recognition of the sacrifices the soldiers make."

One of the armoured Soldiers of the defending fireteams suddenly spoke with a belligerent head toss, "You mean it's now the words of parting when we're expected to lay down our lives."

Another Protegan with the rank patch of an Officer held up a hand for silence. "Our oath dictates what is required of us, Soldier," he growled.

The Soldier broke out of line then. "It's because of these Lanteans we're in this mess!" he yelled.

"Stow it, Soldier," another officer snapped. Taking off her helmet, she grimaced at the Colonel. "Sorry sir, the Commander in charge is on the balcony."

The female officer turned then, walking to the base of the cannon. AR-1 followed her while the male Officer pulled the insubordinate Soldier to the side. The woman waved the door open then stood at guard beside the entrance. "Head on inside, we've got things under control down here."

Sheppard inclined his head as he and his team passed the threshold, stepped in the first transporter, and then strode onto the balcony wrapped around the upper level of the cannon. There, the supervising Lantean officer caught Sheppard's attention.

"Colonel!" Lieutenant Martel hailed as he waved an arm over his head. As Sheppard approached the kid, he started speaking in anxious tones. "What the hell is going on up there? The Commander said the planet's being evacuated!"

Sheppard frowned. "It's true, Lieutenant. The Replicators have made an appearance. They're fighting the Wraith at the moment, but once they're destroyed the Replicators will try to kill every human on the planet."

Martel swallowed nervously. _He's only twenty-three..._ John thought. "It's alright, Martel," he said in his best encouraging tone, "we're gonna get everyone out. The Justicer and Colonels Caldwell and Ellis are working on our escape plan." John clapped the Lieutenant's shoulder, then spotted the Commander winding her way around the railguns assembled on the balcony.

"Colonel Sheppard," the Commander said as she walked up to then past John and his team. "Commander Andros," she introduced herself as AR-1 followed her, "the cannons aren't as effective against these new warships, but we have given them pause. However, without Atidum's guidance we are having trouble coordinating fire between cannons."

"Just say aim at the one on the left," Ronon said.

McKay shook his head. "It's not that they aren't shooting the same one. If it were wraith hives they'd get by fine that way, but to try and take down the Aurora-class warships they need a collective hit on the same point at the same time to overwhelm the shields," he explained.

"Exactly," Commander Andros affirmed. "Our gunners just aren't experienced enough to-" she broke off as a Soldier leaned in to speak to her quietly, handing her a data pad. She cocked her head as she listened, then nodded. "Thank-you Soldier, return to your post."

The Soldier saluted and left. Andros beckoned McKay forward. "Doctor, Consulate Pacem has contacted me and asks I show you this," the Commander held out the data pad, "the diagnostics you asked for."

Rodney accepted the offered screen, muttering under his breath, "Why didn't he send it to my tablet?" He was silent while he read through it, then gave a soft exclamation of understanding. "Ah! External connectivity isn't holding up too well, only closed networks are functioning..."

"As I was saying," Commander Andros continued, "Our gunners don't have the training to make such shots on their own, but we'll just have to make do now that the AI is out of commission."

"How much functionality do the orbital defence systems have without Atidum?" Sheppard asked, trying to remember his lessons on the cannon's manual firing mode. All he could recall with certainty was the need for the ATA gene.

"Enough that we can give the Replicators a headache," Andros stated, "but from what I've heard in the last few minutes nothing could hold out against them forever."

Again, John felt the weight of their situation, grinding his will into the ground. He was just so damn tired. Tired of fighting, tired of forced optimism, tired of giving so much of himself and still losing. Knowing he wasn't Atlas, he still grit his teeth and shouldered the world crashing down around him. "Well, let's see what we can do to hold them off a bit longer. I think Major Lorne and I might be able to tweak things a little, make it easier to coordinate. I'll have a talk to your gunner and go from there."

Sheppard turned to Ronon and Teyla. "Ronon, stay with McKay. Teyla, go back to the jumper and tell Lorne I need him at Cannon Four, then radio Lieutenant Davies and let him know the Major'll be headed his way."

Teyla nodded and headed for the door, while Ronon leaned against the guardrail, blaster drawn, eyes on Rodney, who stood oblivious to the world, reading the city diagnostics. Unsure of what he could do, but determined to do something, Sheppard saluted Andros. "I'll leave you to it, Commander."

Andros returned his salute, then moved off, talking into her comm unit. Sheppard walked around the balcony until he reached the wall mounted hand rungs leading to the cannon proper. Climbing up the rungs, he arrived hanging outside the cab. The Protegan Guardian manning the cannon looked up in surprise.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, sir!" the gunner exclaimed.

"Excuse me, Guardian," Sheppard said as he leaned in, peering at the HUD that currently depicted a close-up of the Replicator-Wraith battle. "Damn," he muttered, looking at the wreckage of the wraith ships, "they aren't pulling any punches." He quickly counted two out of five hive ships remaining, and three out of ten cruisers. The Replicators had three Aurora-class warships with an uncounted drone capacity, more than enough to destroy the Wraith forces and then decimate the human population on the planet. Re-focusing on his task, John cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I have a look at the cannon's operating systems?" he asked the Guardian.

The Guardian grabbed his discarded helmet from beside him on the cab's one seat and squished himself to the side, making room for Sheppard. John swung himself in, resting one thigh on the seat, the other leg braced on the outer rungs. Half-in half-out of the gunner cab, John temporarily took control of the cannon. Allowing his mind to sink in to the Ancient system, John pushed his ATA gene, exerting his will onto the advanced technology. He could never explain how he interacted with the neurological component of Ancient tech, how _instinctual_ it felt when he connected on that other level. "Come on, come on..."

It was then he felt something entirely new; another voice, another entity, settled somewhere in the back of his mind. Something cool and fluid, like water. Startled, he pulled out, and when he came back to himself he drew in his breath sharply, as though surfacing from the depths of an ocean.

"Colonel? Colonel Sheppard?"

John glanced over to see the Guardian watching him nervously. John swallowed, then cleared his throat again. "Thanks, I'll let you get back to it now," he said with a small smile to reassure the gunner. Casting his gaze to the balcony below, John called a warning, then jumped out the cab. He stacked the landing, his left knee screaming as he further tore the weakened ligament in the abused joint, then stumbled to his feet. Ronon suddenly appeared with an exasperated growl, and hauled John back to Rodney.

Leaning on Ronon, left arm thrown over the runner's shoulders for support, Sheppard clicked his fingers to get the physicist's attention. "McKay! I need to talk to you _now._"

"Busy."

"_Now_!" Sheppard insisted.

"What?" Rodney yelled, finally looking up from the data pad.

"Atidum wants to talk to you," John said.

"_What_?" McKay repeated in disbelief.

Sheppard pushed away from Ronon, grabbing Rodney's shoulders, trying to impress the urgency of his message. "I connected with the city to try and help the gunners and Atidum reached out to me," he said, watching McKay's face pale.

"It shouldn't have been able to do that- do you have any idea what it could have done to you?" Rodney snapped fearfully.

Sheppard shook his head, ignoring his friend's concern. "Atidum _needs_ to talk to you. It can help."

"It tried to kill us!"

"No," Sheppard explained, "the Replicators tried to use it to kill us. It was in the process of adapting its security protocols to block them out when Atheon locked it down. You have to let the AI out so it can fight the Replicators."

Rodney cast a meaningful glance at Ronon, who put a restraining hand on Sheppard. "It's probably lying to you, Colonel. Even if it isn't, the risk Atidum poses as a rogue AI loose in the system is too severe."

"I know what I felt!" Sheppard snarled, then checked himself. Taking a calming breath, trying to shut out the pain in his knee, he sighed. "Please, let's talk to the Consulate about this."

Rodney stared at John, and they locked in silent communication. Sheppard could see McKay thinking hard, clear as day on his calculating expression. They both knew how much their fighting chances increased if Atidum was on their side again.

Finally, Rodney capitulated. "Fine. We'll discuss it with Atheon."


	20. One Final Effort

Sitting at the helm of Jumper One, Sheppard opened a comm line to Consulate Pacem, McKay hovering over his shoulder, one arm holding onto the data pad with the city's diagnostics. Teyla was sitting in co-pilot when they arrived. Having finished making contact with Major Lorne, she didn't deign to move aside for Rodney as she sat with her head in her hands. Ronon closed the rear hatch as he entered, shutting out some of the chaotic noise echoing through the city.

After a few minutes, Pacem responded. _"Colonel, we're a little busy here, so I have to make this quick," _he said unapologetically.

"I need you to let Atidum out," Sheppard stated without preamble.

_"I'm sure McKay can explain to you why that's a terrible idea,"_ Pacem replied bluntly.

Sheppard shot Rodney a look before he could say anything. "And I'm telling you, you don't know what you're doing. Atidum is essential to the defence of this city."

A sigh transmitted as a wash of static. _"The city is already lost; we should be focusing on the evacuation."_

"Atheon, can you please trust me? I know the city is as good as dust, but Atidum should be able to buy us some time," Sheppard paused, feeling all eyes on him. Atheon was quiet too, and John figured he had about a minute until the Consulate disregarded their conversation. "I used my ATA- my genesong- to make contact with the city and Atidum reached out to me. I know how shaky that sounds, but I'm begging you to give Atidum a chance; it wants to help, it just needs a moment to adapt its security to shut out the Replicators."

The silence dragged on, until Rodney suddenly piqued in. "If we shut down the open-comms systems we could isolate the areas the AI can reach."

_"You think we could lock Atidum outside of most of the city?"_ Atheon asked cautiously.

Rodney shrugged. "I can get started on it right away."

A hint of censure crept into Atheon's tone. _"You will do no such thing without the Justicer's approval."_

"No, no, that's fair enough," Sheppard quickly said. "Of course we'll take it to the Justicer first. Thank you for hearing me out."

_"You've led us this far, Colonel," _Atheon said, somewhat ruefully. _"It'd be counterproductive to doubt you now. McKay, help me work out the specifics; I won't take a half-thought out plan to the Justicer."_

"Got it," Rodney replied. "Maybe we can open a dialogue with Atidum before letting it out of lockdown..."

While Rodney and Atheon kept up a back-and-forth, John turned to Teyla and Ronon.

"Teyla, Lorne is headed to Cannon Four?" Sheppard asked quietly.

"Yes, he will radio back to us when he has arrived, which should be shortly," Teyla answered, lifting her head to look at John with haunted eyes.

Sheppard leaned forward and laid a hand on her knee. "Hey, you okay?"

Teyla raised an eyebrow.

"Right," John said, "stupid question."

Looking out the viewscreen, Teyla frowned. "No, it's not... I am trying to shut it out, and yet..." She turned back to John. "I can still feel the Wraith... their frustration, their hunger, their fear. I do not pity them, but it is hard not to empathise with so _much_ fear."

Sheppard gave her knee a gentle squeeze as Ronon clasped her shoulder comfortingly.

Managing a small smile, Teyla took a breath. "I can feel less and less every minute. There are very few surviving wraith."

Sheppard smiled in return, then frowned, sitting back in his seat. "Of course, the flip side of that is once there's no more wraith to kill the Replicators will turn to us."

The jumper comms activated then. _"Jumper One, this is Major Lorne. I've just landed at Cannon Four."_

"We read you Major," Sheppard responded, "sit tight, the wonder geeks are working on something, I'll give you an update when I have one."

_"Yes sir."_

Rubbing a hand over his face, Sheppard looked expectantly at Rodney, who was still preoccupied, reading his data pad.

"Okay, looking good..." he muttered, then said on comm, "I think that's as close as we can get in our extremely limited time. How's it at your end?"

_"The Justicer has signed off," _the Consulate said, _"I've contacted the leading engineer at the Protectorate Facility, they'll have things set up in a few minutes. Send your final modifications to data terminal Alpha-eight-seven-three then head over, I'll meet you there."_

"Done," McKay said, keying something into the data pad.

"Catch us up, Rodney," Sheppard said.

McKay nodded. "All right, we're going to let Atidum take control of the Protectorate Facility and nothing else while we have a chat with it. Assuming it wasn't lying to you and things go smoothly we'll help it adjust to dealing with the Replicators, then it'll be allowed to help Orbital Defence once we know beyond any doubt it won't impede the evacuation efforts."

"Sounds good." Sheppard powered up the jumper. "I assume when Atheon asked to meet us 'there' he meant the Protectorate Facility?"

Rodney looked up from the data pad. "Hmm? Oh, yeah."

Shaking his head, John took off, then thought he should have let Martel and Andros know he was leaving. With a mental shrug, he reasoned they didn't have time to observe every aspect of normal protocols.

The journey to the Protectorate Facility was a familiar one, uneventful and unremarkable. John wished things were the same elsewhere, but the sight of the two Earth ships descending through the atmosphere and the muffled sounds of the city-wide alarms were stark proof of their insane situation.

The hangar of the facility was all but empty, the halls unpopulated. Belatedly, Sheppard realised the majority of the Protegan Defence forces would still be out of the city. It seemed surreal that so recently the Wraith had been the sword hanging over their heads, not a god-sent distraction. Apparently McKay was thinking similarly.

"It's probably only because of the Wraith we're not dead yet," Rodney said quietly as they strode purposefully through the ominously silent base.

"It truly feels bizarre to be grateful for their presence," Teyla commented. Her gaze drifted upwards every time they passed a window or sky light.

It suddenly occurred to John that that same presence might be responsible for their predicament. "You know... the Replicators probably only found Protegat because the Wraith were here. I mean, all those hives hanging around in a supposedly uninhabited system..."

Rodney stopped walking mid-stride.

Slowing, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon turned to face him.

Meeting their questioning gazes, Rodney looked sick. "I did this. I brought them all here."

Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon's protests mingled incoherently, then John took a step towards the miserable physicist.

"We all made our choices, Rodney."

McKay shook his head. "But I found the planet! I dug through the database! I demanded we come here!"

"You only wanted to help those we knew were in grave danger," Teyla said vehemently.

"If I'd just left well enough alone-"

"McKay!" John snapped, trying to break through Rodney's spiralling self-recriminations, "You did this one by the books. You gave the High Council all the facts, and they made an informed decision. You did everything you could for everyone you could."

Rodney dropped his gaze. "But I-"

John cut him off. "If I was saying what you're saying, what would you say to me?" _Please, please hear me. _John watched Rodney struggle, trying to find a flaw in this argument.

Finally, Rodney raised his head. "I-"

Just then, their Protegan comms lit up. _"This is Commander Tylo on all open channels. Does anyone have a location on evacuee group eight-nine?"_

Sheppard and his team listened in growing trepidation as a multitude of responses came up negative. Some listed other evacuee groups that had lost contact.

_"Group four-seven never made it to their station."_

_"We've got an empty carriage on train one-two."_

_"Who's in the vicinity?"_

_"We're stretched thin, not enough eyes in the city-"_

_"-Haven't heard from fireteam Ki'sll in twelve minutes."_

_"It's unlike them to miss check-in."_

_"Send an avem to look into it."_

Disturbed, Sheppard activated his comm. "Colonel Sheppard to Commander Tylo."

_"Receiving,"_ was the clipped response from the Commander.

"I can re-assign my jumper teams to investigate," Sheppard offered.

_"We'd be grateful for the assistance,"_ Tylo replied in earnest.

Sheppard nodded. "We'll get there ASAP."

Taking a moment, John looked to Rodney and the datapad he was holding. Hesitating, Sheppard's choice became clear when Atheon came sprinting down the hall. Spotting their held-up procession, the Consulate somehow put on a burst of speed, then came to a dead halt in front of them.

Breathing hard, Atheon looked over the group. "You look exhausted," he said simply.

"Look who's talking," John said wryly. The Consulate was rumpled, his hair slicked with sweat, still bearing untreated cuts. Pushing aside his concern for the man he had begun to consider a friend, he focused. "You and Rodney will have to handle Atidum on your own for now; Teyla, Ronon, and I are needed to track down missing civilians."

Atheon wasn't thrilled by this news. "Atidum reached out to _you_, Colonel."

Sheppard shrugged. "That was only because I connected with the city."

The Consulate shook his head, muttering a disbelieving curse. "I still don't understand that."

"Sorry," Sheppard said. "The fact is most of your fireteams are still out of the city. We've gotta go."

"I know," Atheon said with a sigh. "Best of luck then. Get back here when you can."

"Will do. You look after Rodney, okay?" Sheppard fixed Atheon with a stare. "I trust you to handle any dramas."

Atheon nodded, unconsciously resting one hand on his sidearm. "He's safe with me."

Sheppard smiled tightly, then clapped McKay on the arm. "We'll finish our conversation later," he said in a low tone, then headed back towards the hangar.

Throwing his head over his shoulder, John saw Teyla speak some quiet, encouraging words to Rodney, then follow. Ronon stared intently at the Consulate, then muttered something to McKay. Rodney nodded, said something affirming. The two teammates then caught up to Sheppard.

Once more piloting the jumper, Sheppard sighed, sensing Ronon's censure. "I trust Atheon, Ronon," he said, not looking at the Satedan.

"So do I," Ronon replied, "but there's two invading forces, and hardly any guards at the base."

"I made the best call I could," Sheppard said defensively.

"I know." Ronon didn't sound happy at all.

Putting the conversation aside, Sheppard hailed Commander Tylo, getting the specifics of the troubles with communications, then divvied up the assignments between the five jumper teams. Feeling exhausted yet at the same time wide awake, Sheppard made a fly-by of the last known location of their first group. From the air, they were able to spot a scattering of bodies on the empty street. Landing on a terrace looking over the street- really it was a walkway, the Protegans didn't allow civilian cars in the city- Sheppard stood, fetching his P90 from the back seat he'd dumped it on prior to setting out from the wraith staging site.

Cautiously, Sheppard led Teyla and Ronon out of the jumper. They held their guns at the ready, anticipating trouble. Fanning out, they made their way down the terrace, each step jarring their injuries. The Justicer's words echoed in the recesses of John's mind, from that one glorious moment they thought all this would soon be over; _One final effort is all that remains._

Sometimes the only way to survive was to take one thing at a time.

_Find out what happened to the civilians, then take it from there._

Ghosting onto the street, they checked the area, looking down the sights of their barrels, scanning the sky, the buildings with mistrust. They grouped back together, moving to the nearest body, eyes on the horizons. Sheppard and Teyla covered Ronon while he knelt and inspected the corpse.

"Fed on," Ronon grunted, standing back up, blaster raised.

"The wraith that were in the outer reaches sabotaging the arrays must have made their way into the city," Sheppard hypothesised.

"Where the fleeing citizens must make easy pickings," Teyla spat with distaste. "I should have sensed-"

"With the number of wraith getting blown out of the sky?" Sheppard asked. "Even you're not that good."

"We must contact High Command, they have to assign security to the evacuees," Teyla said, shifting her grip on her P90.

"Right," Sheppard agreed, "then we should take a look around; there could be survivors."

Teyla and Ronon stepped to guard, orientating themselves to protect Sheppard while he keyed his comm. "Colonel Sheppard to Commander Tylo, come in please."

After a beat of silence, the Commander responded. _"Receiving."_

"We've got dead civilians, fed on by wraith. Recommend you scrape together what forces you can to escort the evacuees off-planet."

_"Kilamest!"_ Tylo cursed. _"All right, thank you for the update Colonel. We'll protect our citizens, if I have to go out there myself."_

"We're gonna have a look around in case of survivors, then try to catch up with group four-seven," Sheppard said, signalling Teyla and Ronon to move out.

_"Thank you," _Tylo said again, _"and if you meet the parasites that did this, send them to the last hell."_

"Affirmative, Sheppard out." Flicking off his comm, John started towards the nearest building. "Let's make this quick. Ronon, keep an eye out for any tracks. I know it's a long shot but I'll take anything you can give me."

Their search was brief, efficient. They found no living being, human or wraith. They came across more corpses, but as far as they could tell the wraith responsible had moved on. As they returned heavy-hearted to the jumper, Sheppard gave the order to pick up additional ammo while they walked through the rear section. "Chances are any wraith we encounter will be at peak regeneration."

Packing the extra magazines, Sheppard sat and got the jumper back in the air, making the short trip to a train station that had gone dark. Again, he parked a safe distance, and the trio headed back into the bright, deserted streets. Heading up the walkways to the station seemed to take forever, as the Protegans favoured gentle ramps over staircases. There were lifts but John preferred the clear sight-lines the ramps offered, and so they made the trek, nerves taught with anticipation.

When they reached the station they were greeted with more death. They started to warily search the facilities when a scream of terror rent the air.

Breaking into pursuit of the sound, Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla pushed past their exhaustion, bearing down on what became a cacophony of shouts. Turning a corner, they witnessed three civilian adults desperately try to hold off a group of six wraith warriors. Frozen with fear behind the adults were seven children, ranging in age from five to twelve.

"Get clear!" yelled Sheppard, picking the closest wraith and pumping it full of bullets. Either side of him, Ronon and Teyla loosed their first shots.

"Children, run!" Teyla ordered the kids, trying to rouse them into action.

Five of the wraith attackers brought their stunners to bear on the Lanteans, while the sixth began feeding on one of the adults in spite of the threat. The other two civilians disengaged, fleeing the wrath of the Lanteans' bullets.

Still moving forward, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon moved from cover to cover, sheltering from the stun blasts behind raised planter boxes. Leapfrogging one another, they kept a constant fire on the wraith, forcing the creatures to focus on them instead. But the things were recently fed, absorbing the damage, healing from it, eating lead like it was breakfast.

Sheppard and Teyla called out every time they had to reload their P90s, and Ronon would open up with his blaster. One wraith dropped and didn't stir. They were getting there.

While running through the mechanical motions of reloading- pop, discard, slip, cock it- Sheppard threw a quick look towards the children, who he saw with relief, huddled behind cover. The eldest of them had their arms wrapped protectively around the younger kids. Good. He started firing again.

To his left and in front, Sheppard heard Ronon growl.

"Overheated!" Ronon called, holding his blaster upright, as it literally smoked.

Sheppard and Teyla took up the slack, then Ronon drew one of his uncounted knives in one hand. Drew back, threw, with lethal accuracy, as the blade embedded in the airway of one now-thoroughly dead wraith.

Two down, four to go.

Sparing a glance for the brave but unfortunate man who had died defending the children, died in the worst way John could think of- wraith food- Sheppard quickly calculated the distance of the civilians from the enemies. Satisfied they were clear, he paused in his shooting, leaving Teyla to keep the wraith pinned as he primed a frag grenade.

"Everyone down, _now!_" he yelled, watching to make sure the order was followed, before loosing the explosive at the wraith, and ducking below the solid concrete barrier of the planter box.

The high-intensity grenade did its job, showering the wraith in lethal, high-velocity razor-sharp metal fragments, which shredded past the enemies' armour as though it didn't exist, tearing through the beasts themselves. Their limp bodies thudded heavily to the ground.

Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon stood, cautiously approaching the fallen combatants.

"Stay down until we confirm it is all clear," Teyla called pre-emptively to the civilians.

When they reached the wraith, the creatures did not stir. The three exchanged a glance, then picked through the beasts, delivering final executions.

"Clear!" Sheppard announced.

The two adults stood shakily. One spied the bloody mess of bodies and doubled over, retching. The other had eyes only for the children, one of whom was struggling to throw off the eldest who held them back.

"She'll come to you, just wait," the twelve-year-old said in an urgent voice. He was staring blankly at the dead.

As the man who had thrown up straightened, wiping his mouth, the woman raced to the kids, hoisting the struggling child into her arms. Teyla jogged to the children as Sheppard moved towards the man who seemed unsteady on his feet.

"Is anyone hurt?" Teyla asked the children, crouching beside them and looking over them critically, making an assessment.

John threw an arm under the man's, as he appeared in danger of toppling over. As he brought his other hand to the man's abdomen to brace him, John felt sticky wetness. He dropped his eyes to see blood. "Alright, let's get you sitting down for a moment."

He eased the man onto the rim of the planter box, keeping one hand against his back to hold him upright. "Let me see here..." John pulled the man's shirt up, and found some sort of puncture wound. From the shape, he'd guess it was from a knife.

"No biggie," he said, giving the man what he hoped was an encouraging smile, but he just seemed confused. John decided to try again. "You'll be fine," he said, pulling a field bandage from his vest.

"Thank you, Soldier," the man grunted as Sheppard bound the wound tightly. John disregarded the miss-rank, knowing Protegans referred unilaterally to defence corps members as Soldier.

"That's not a problem Mister...?" Sheppard replied, wanting to keep him talking.

"Alrech. Hadin Alrech," Hadin answered, his voice strained.

"Any of those kids yours?" John asked, with a toss of his head to indicate the children Teyla was talking to.

"No," Hadin grunted. "Don't know any of them."

Sheppard nodded, giving the bandage a final tie-off. "It's brave of you to put your life on the line for them."

"Not really," he said, resting a hand over his injury. "Just doing what was right."

John couldn't help but smile. Hadin's self-effacing response was vindicating. It was this kind of person that restored a little faith in his fight. "Okay, we need to get you on your feet now. Actually..." Sheppard changed track, "let's seat you a bit more comfortably, I think there's enough clear space to land the jumper closer." He lowered Hadin onto the ground again, setting his back against the planter so he didn't stress the wound.

Standing, John watched Teyla gently strap a young girl's ankle, then looked around for Ronon. He spied the Satedan placing brush he'd dragged out of the raised gardens, which he tossed loosely on the wraith carcasses. The civilian they hadn't been able to save had been moved a respectful distance. Lighting the pyre, Ronon stood impassively by the young flames.

"Well that's damn sure they won't get back up," Sheppard muttered under his breath. Checking his ammo, John activated his radio. "Teyla, Ronon, I'm going to fetch the jumper so our wounded don't have to walk so far."

_"Copy,"_ the Lanteans replied.

Sheppard glanced down at Hadin. "Teyla, d'you reckon you could move your group to my guy? He's immobile and I don't want to leave him alone."

_"I can do that, Colonel. Be careful,"_ Teyla replied, picking up the child she'd been tending to.

Sheppard nodded to himself. "Thank you."

Recounting the distance to the jumper in his head, John decided he could manage a jog on the way there. He'd rather get moving as soon as possible.

John's return trip to the jumper was forlorn. The desolate streets felt hostile, and the backdrop of alarms and distant explosions did nothing to console the anxiety his sense of isolation gave him. He thought of Hadin, of the woman he hadn't got the name of, and the children they had saved to shut out the pain of his overworked body. Resisting the temptation to drop his head, to double over and collapse on the ground, John kept his breathing regulated, let his thundering heart drown out all sound.

Reaching the jumper, he unclipped his P90, setting it above the flight controls as he sat down and took off. Moving the small ship to the station platform, Sheppard commed to High Command, where his call to Commander Tylo was redirected.

_"Commander Tylo responding."_

"Commander? It's Sheppard. Where are you?" the Colonel asked.

_"Escorting evacuation group one-one. What do you need?"_ Tylo replied.

Landing the jumper, Sheppard answered, "We've found two civilian adults and seven children, I need to know where to take them."

_"That's good news,"_ Tylo said fervently, _"there's a transport readying to leave from Sky Fleet runway two. If you can get the civilians there in five minutes they should be able to board."_

"Right," Sheppard stood, walking to the rear section. "One of the adults is wounded, he'll need proper treatment soon."

_"We have fully equipped medical teams on each transport. Notify them when you arrive and they'll look after him,"_ the Commander assured him, _"comm me if you have any problems. Tylo out."_

Opening the rear hatch, Sheppard slipped to one side as Teyla ushered the children inside. Ronon caught his eye, then jerked his head at Hadin. John nodded, and together they lifted the wounded man, each slinging one of his arms over their shoulders, and carried him inside the jumper. They sat him in one of the forward seats, so his back was properly supported, and turned to check on Teyla.

She had all of the children seated, the woman sitting with them, arms wrapped around as many of the kids she could manage. Teyla nodded at Ronon and Sheppard, settling on the bench opposite the woman and talking quietly with the kids.

Ronon sat at co-pilot while John took his seat again, and sent a short message to Sky Fleet Command, letting them know to expect the jumper in a few minutes.

As they flew through the air, around the numerous skyscrapers, a familiar thundering whoosh grew, and the remaining gladius fighter jets shot past overhead. Sheppard accounted for the pressure differentials the Jetstreams trailed, and landed near the carrier jumbo-jet sized transport hulking over the second of sky fleet command's three elevated runways.

The Lanteans moved the civilians quickly, and passed Hadin over to the medical team gratefully. Once the evacuation handlers had assumed responsibility for the children, Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla piled back into the jumper. Confirming with his men that all their assigned tasks were dealt with, Sheppard set his sights back on the Protectorate Facility.

When they landed in the hangar, Teyla drew in a sharp breath. "There are wraith inside," she hissed.

Snatching up his P90, Sheppard keyed his comm unit. "Pacem, come in."

Atheon replied quickly. _"Yes?"_

"We're back at the facility, Teyla's picking up wraith inside," John explained in a rush, heading out the jumper with Teyla and Ronon.

_"Ferd,"_ Atheon cursed. _"That probably explains why the engineers are missing. Okay, thanks for the heads-up. Be careful."_

"You be careful," John growled in response.

Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon set out cautiously, guns at the ready. They paced the corridors carefully, eyes watchful for wraith combatants, but made it to Rodney and Atheon without incident.

"How's it going?" Sheppard asked as he strode through the door, Teyla and Ronon taking up guard positions outside the terminal room.

"Ehhh," Rodney responded from the lower end of the tiered hall, waving his hand in a noncommittal manner.

Making his way down the sloped path between the descending benches, John frowned. "Anything I can do?"

"Maybe," Rodney said, then set down his tablet and turned to Atheon. "How's the kill switch going?"

Sheppard stopped short. "Kill switch?"

Atheon looked up at him. "A precautionary safety measure," he assured John, "just in case things get out of hand. And I've almost achieved confidence, Rodney."

"Alright, once that's in place I think Sheppard can short-cut us through the restrictions your guys imposed," Rodney muttered, picking his tablet back up, "I'm just a bit concerned about Atidum trying to fry his brain."

"What?" John asked.

McKay shot him a look. "Well, you know Atidum is a very powerful program, and we still don't fully understand the process of connecting with Ancient tech through the ATA and... well, we're just better to play it safe in any case."

"That makes me feel better," Sheppard drawled, walking the remaining distance to the pair.

"You're the one that wants to let it out," Rodney retorted, fixated on his tablet.

Though he longed to continue the verbal sparring, John decided to withhold his next comment. Considering Rodney's concerns John wanted the physicist focused on his job.

"Okay," Atheon said after a moment, "I've got the kill switch working with confidence. Rodney, is your firewall operational?"

Tapping a last command on his tablet with a flourish, Rodney smirked. "Done. Time for the moment of truth."

Sheppard set his P90 aside and stepped forward, hiding his trepidation behind an air of cocky assurance as Rodney gestured towards the terminal.

Despite the days on end they had spent in a terminal room just like this one in the unofficial early stages of their alliance with the Protegans, John had never really paid close attention to the ancient console itself. When McKay and Zelenka had been studying the theory of the orbital defence cannons, John had only ever interacted with the holograms the AI had projected. Coming to stand in front of the console John noted that while it did indeed look similar to many consoles on Atlantis, there was one part of it in particular that seemed to call to him. It was a small screen, no bigger than six inches, glittering with Ancient glyphs. John lay a hand on it.

Instantly, the city opened up before him, the intricate inter-communications between the various Ancient systems. There were the cannons, constantly reporting to one another _how did the gunners not hear that?_ The energy blasts pulsed through John's mind every time the cannons discharged. The jumpers fed tidbits of data, but the city didn't respond to them; they weren't attached to its inner heartbeat. They were _other_ to the city. The towers at Sky Fleet shared their own intelligence, but they did not know themselves as Sky Fleet, they simply were Control. And there were the Protegan systems, latched onto the city like pilot fish; helping maintain but incapable of measuring up. A thousand different sources, a hundred different commands, but they were all unheard. An emptiness pervaded the city. Something was missing, and the city knew it.

Unaware of the physical world around him, a world where he was flesh and blood and aching bones, John's consciousness followed the data stream, followed the emptiness until he found the stonewall of containment protocols.

_"Colonel?"_

Reaching the Protegan barricade, Sheppard studied it. The city seemed to know what he was doing, what he intended. It impressed upon him a sense of readiness, as though it awaited permission to release its guardian.

_"Sheppard can you hear me?"_

The moment of suspension felt right, as John stood at the centre of the city's domain, everywhere and nowhere at once.

_"John you reconnected the console! Do not release Atidum!"_

_"Pull him out of it, Doctor!"_

_One final effort... one final command. _

"Atidum," John said, "give 'em hell."


	21. Desperate Times

_"Atidum... give 'em hell."_

The world went red. Was abruptly, unforgivingly real.

Sheppard collapsed to his knees as a scream ripped from his throat. As his hand fell from the console he was brought back to reality. Tumbling flat on the ground, he heard multiple voices calling his name.

_God,_ he thought, dragging a hand underneath himself to push himself off the floor, _I've gotta stop this dramatic swooning._ And maybe that was a weird thing to think when you feel like your skull's been ripped out of your head and used as a weapon to bludgeon you to death with, but in such a situation no one can be expected to be logical.

He shoved himself upright, but the world was still red. Except... he could see, so it wasn't his vision that was wrong. Teyla's concerned face came into view, tinged with crimson.

John nodded to her, then looked up to see the red light surrounding them, moving hectically, sporadically. It was a hologram, just not of anything in particular. Angry red jerked violently around the room.

"Rodney! The firewall!" Atheon yelled, working furiously over the console.

McKay cursed. "Everything's frozen! Atidum's in complete control!"

Sheppard rushed to his feet. "That's a good thing!" he insisted, steadying himself with a hand on the console.

"I _strongly_ disagree, Colonel!" Atheon snapped.

"No," Rodney said, pausing, "the Colonel's right, if Atidum is in control that means the Replicators aren't."

"As of yet," the Consulate growled.

Atidum's unique voice echoed out of the room's speakers, scrambled and incomprehensible. Then, the red light began to cool to blue, coalescing into Atidum's quadwing phoenix avatar. The AI's projected form made a show of swooping in to land, perched atop the console. It cocked its head, then began to speak.

"My thanks, Colonel Sheppard," it said in its double-timbre voice, "I apologise for the headache, but I am once more in full control of myself. I have the cannons co-ordinating their strikes for maximum efficiency."

Pressing his eyes closed, John waved a dismissive hand. "It had to be done."

"Indeed," the AI responded. "Now if you have no immediate need for me I shall withdraw from the conversation." Not waiting for their reply, the hologram faded out.

John opened his eyes again and turned to face the wider room, and found Teyla and Ronon looking confused and worried. "It's fine, guys," he assured them.

To his left, John heard the chime of a door opening. As wraith appeared in the stage doorframe, Ronon and Teyla swiftly drew their weapons and fired on the intruders. On the right, the other stage door opened, revealing a wraith commander.

Before John could so much as blink in the wraith commander's direction, Atheon sprang into action. With a running jump he used one hand on the wraith's shoulder to boost himself, wrapping his thighs around the creature's neck. As he and the wraith tumbled to the ground Atheon drew a wicked combat knife from his boot. Snarling, he plunged the black blade through the creature's upper neck, right to the hilt. As they hit the floor he twisted the knife and with a sickening, audible _crack_ the blade separated the wraith's vertebra. Withdrawing the knife and rolling to his feet in one smooth move, Atheon assessed the room for further threats, relaxing only when Teyla confirmed they were clear.

Sheppard looked over his shoulder to check on Rodney, who was staring at Atheon with shock. Sheppard recognised that look; one that he'd earned a few times, whenever he'd revealed how lethal he could be in front of the physicist. There was a reason Sheppard had felt he could trust the Consulate to keep McKay safe.

Striding back to the console, Atheon picked up Rodney's tablet from where it had dropped to the ground. "Rodney, before we move on I would like to run some preliminary diagnostics to affirm Atidum's assertion."

Blinking, Rodney came back to himself. "Right. Give me that," he took his tablet off Atheon and fumbled with a cable to plug directly into the console.

With a shake of his head, John cast his eyes around for his P90. Spotted it, sitting on the lowest tier seat. Fetching the weapon, he exchanged a glance with Teyla and Ronon, and needing no further communication they split their focus. Covered one of the room's three entrances each.

"We're looking good," Rodney muttered.

"Check the external comms," Atheon ordered.

"Look- this is hard to get a legitimate reading- half of the infrastructure has been destroyed over the last two weeks."

"We need confidence, Rodney."

"Sorry we can't cover your ass."

Atheon huffed. "That was inappropriate, Doctor."

"You're wasting time on this Consulate," Rodney said defensively.

Staring down the barrel at the right stage door, Sheppard shifted his grip on his P90.

After a pause, Atheon sighed heavily. "Rodney, if it was your planet facing this threat would you accept anything less? Would you chance leaving your people's survival to a potentially rogue element?"

Rodney was silent. Finally, he replied. "No, you're right. There's just so much to do."

"Then let's get it done."

The two set about their task quietly from then on, exchanging softly whenever they needed to. After uncounted minutes, they were finally satisfied with their diagnostics.

"Okay," Atheon said, "the city is operating at near efficiency."

Rodney hummed. "This whole incident has really driven home how vital that AI is to the city."

Atheon wasn't listening to him. "I need to return to Sky Fleet Command," the Consulate said, tapping a finger on his wrist-mounted screen, "If you and your team could patrol the evac routes, Colonel Sheppard, that would be of assistance."

Sheppard cast a glance at him. "How are you getting there?"

"An avem will pick me up when one becomes available."

Shaking his head, John gave him a hard look. "We'll drop you off."

"The jumpers are a resource better suited to-"

"Atheon," Sheppard cut him off, "it's less than a minute detour from the evac routes. We're dropping you off."

"Fine," Atheon reluctantly agreed. "Let's move."

They left the terminal room and made their way to the hangar, moving fast but cautious of any further wraith that may be lurking within the facility. As they reached the cavernous bay, hangar doors left open to the city, Sheppard and Pacem's com units activated.

_"Earth Ships _Daedalus _and _Apollo _are loaded and ready to depart."_

Less than a second later, the Lantean's radios crackled, and Colonel Ellis spoke through them.

_"Colonel Ellis to all Atlantis personnel. We are beginning our departure to transport evacuees to the nearest world with a stargate. Estimated travel time at six hours, and then another six to get back here. I know this is more than any of you signed on to, and I want you to know we will be back for you. Ellis out."_

As the jumper's ramp lowered and AR-1 escorted Pacem inside, John turned to the Consulate. "Rough estimate, how many people have we evacuated so far?"

"Close to five thousand," Atheon replied.

"Five thousand? Out of three hundred and fifteen thousand?" Teyla asked despairingly.

"How long to evacuate everyone?" John asked.

Atheon answered in a tired voice. "Nine of your earth-days, seven Protegan rotations."

Sitting down and powering up the jumper, Sheppard felt hopeless. He couldn't see how they could hold the Replicators off for seven more days. Even if they had the means, he didn't believe that they had the ability to fight for that much longer. Everyone was exhausted, everyone was pushed to their limits.

"Let's light up a beacon," Rodney said from co-pilot as they took off.

Thinking his statement was something to do with flying the jumper, Sheppard cast questioning eyes on the physicist.

"We could try and draw more wraith to Protegat," Rodney elaborated. "If we rigged a subspace distress call to look like it was being broadcast by Atlantis, originating on a planet not too far from the city's last known location..."

Standing in the middle of the cockpit, Atheon brightened, "They'd be drawn like moths to a flame! Of course, there's every chance they'd turn tail and run the second they scan the Replicator fleet, but the lure of the intergalactic gate may be enough to hold them here. They'd have to fight it out with the warships, buying us more time for the evacuation. It's worth a shot."

"Would there even be any wraith close enough to come before our time's up?" Sheppard asked.

"Well," Rodney frowned, "that's unknown. The city's scanners were never fully repaired so-"

"I could try," Teyla offered, her expression fierce. "I may be able to use the wraith still alive to connect with any hives nearby."

"Risky," Ronon commented in all his eloquence.

"The Colonel just made a direct connection with a malfunctioning AI," Rodney reasoned. "It's just one of those missions."

"Alright," Sheppard agreed, "but we'll take whatever precautions we can. Atheon, is there any chance we could get Medicus Barukazaar to help with this?"

"I don't understand- why do you need the Medicus to help?" Pacem asked.

Focused on flying, Sheppard was silent while Teyla answered. "Whenever I attempt to make a connection with a wraith mind there's a chance I may become-"

"-Homicidal," Rodney interrupted.

John shot him a glare. "She could become compromised," he said.

"Yes, and if it is possible, it is best to have a way to snap me back to control of myself," Teyla finished explaining.

Confused, Pacem pressed for more information. "And how do you achieve that?"

"Taser'd work," Ronon commented. John heard Teyla whack his shoulder.

"Yes but it's a tad extreme," John drawled. "A much smaller jolt would do the trick."

"Hmm," Pacem considered this for a moment. "Barukazaar is a good physician, I'm sure he could figure something out. Comms are overloaded at Zolaria with the evacuation, but I can ping his pad." The jumper was silent for a moment while Atheon tapped at his wrist screen. "Rodney, if we're doing this I'll need you with me at Fleet Command."

"Right," McKay answered, "I'll look over the inventory from our on-site repairs; I think we've already got everything we need."

"Barukazaar has a basic grasp on what you guys want to do," Pacem said, his words directed at Teyla, "he's putting some equipment together but you'll need to tell him the specifics."

"May I use your screen, Consulate?" Teyla asked.

There was a sliding, locking sound as Pacem slipped the device out of its case strapped to his forearm. After Teyla accepted the device and began typing, Pacem walked towards the rear section. "Sorry," he said as he walked, "it's a little quieter back here, and I need to brief the Justicer."

No one bothered to respond, as he immediately keyed his comm. They could hear his voice as he spoke quietly to Xerath. After a few minutes of low conversation, he came back to the cockpit.

"All good?" John asked.

"We are cleared to proceed," Atheon said.

They dropped Rodney and Atheon off at Sky Fleet without ceremony, and made straight for Zolaria, where Medicus Barukazaar was waiting.

* * *

"Medicus, thank you for your time," Teyla greeted Barukazaar as they exited the jumper. They had landed on the priority pad, extended from the 122nd floor for their short visit.

"I have my equipment set up in triage," Barukazaar said as he led Teyla, Sheppard, and Ronon inside, "I must admit I am confused as to what you are attempting to do, but time is short. Simply tell me if my arrangements will suffice, and I shall endeavour to assist you."

Teyla nodded her gratitude. They arrived in triage shortly after, and quickly zeroed in on a bed with a haphazard assembly beside it. Studying it, Teyla frowned.

"I do not know enough about your technology to identify what you have used and what modifications you have made," she said.

"These look kinda like electrodes," John muttered, picking up a plastic sheet covered in wireless plugs.

"What level of charge will this deliver?" Teyla questioned.

Barukazaar gestured to a LSD plugged into to set up. "Anywhere in between 'just enough to disrupt neuro-commands' to 'enough to stop your heart'. The scanner is the interface with which to control it."

Teyla nodded to herself. "If it becomes necessary, start at the lower end to jolt me back into control. If that does not work, increase and try again."

"Very well." Barukazaar quickly applied the wireless electrodes across Teyla's chest and shoulders.

Satisfied, Teyla sat on the bed, crossing her legs and assuming a meditative posture. "Ronon?"

"Set to stun," Ronon replied, patting his blaster.

Picking up the LSD, Barukazaar watched Teyla, his eyes intense in his scrutiny.

On a deep breath Teyla closed her eyes. As she breathed out she seemed to vanish. Not in a literal sense, of course. Rather, she no longer seemed present, like her mind was a thousand miles away. In a way, it was.

Tense minutes passed, before Teyla sighed and opened her eyes. John and Ronon waited, taut with stress, watching for some sign whether she was in control of herself.

"There is a small fleet in the next solar system," Teyla said after a moment.

Relieved, Sheppard gave a small chuckle. "We should invite them over for tea."

* * *

"McKay, how's it going?" John asked over radio as he, Teyla, and Ronon entered the jumper.

_"We've almost managed the hardware, then we've got to mimic Atlantis's code but that shouldn't be too hard,"_ Rodney replied.

"Alright, we're gonna pick up where we left off and join the evac route patrols," Sheppard said, "radio me if you run into any problems. I'm sure Pacem's keeping the Justicer updated and I want you to do the same for me, understood?"

_"Got it, good luck Colonel."_

"Same to you."

Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon spent the next few hours chasing up flagging groups of evacuees, utilising the jumper's life signs detection tech whenever they could. The fact of the matter was that the few groups who vanished off coms and failed to arrive on time were victims of the wraith ground forces. The fireteams that were supposed to be resting after hunting the wraith through the night were reposted to the city streets, but there weren't enough of them to both escort the evacuee groups and run a proper search of the city. The AR teams were getting run down to the ground responding to the reports of the missing.

Sheppard knew he, for one, was growing disheartened at the number of fed-upon corpses they were finding. Returning to the jumper after yet another fruitless search, he threw his P90 on the starboard rear bench and slumped into pilot seat. Teyla slid into co-pilot with an expression of tormented defeat that crushed John to see, while Ronon paced like a caged animal seeming incapable of pausing his restless, fuming anger.

_"Colonel Sheppard, this is Commander Tylo, respond for update." _

Sheppard paused in his stupor-like motions of his usual pre-flight checks. It registered in his brain that he'd tuned out the noise of the city-wide update channel at some point. He wondered what he'd missed, what had been big enough for Commander Tylo to personally contact him over. Swallowing a lump in his throat, expecting nothing but bad news, John keyed the Protegan comm unit attached to his jacket coat. "Sheppard here."

_"Protegan ground forces have returned to the city from this morning's assault on the wraith staging site,"_ Commander Tylo informed them._ "Please coordinate with assault leader Knight Stoic in isolating suspicious life signs."_

Straightening, John replied immediately, "That's the best news I've heard today. I take it we can finally run a grid search of the city?"

_"Yes. Contact Knight Stoic immediately. Tylo out."_

Powering up and taking off, Sheppard commed High Command to seek Stoic's frequency so he could do just that. Once he had received the frequency, he asked Teyla to key his comm unit correctly. She reached over and unclipped the device, made the changes, then clipped it back on his collar.

Not knowing what to expect, John made his hail as efficient as possible, "Knight Stoic this is Colonel Sheppard making contact as requested, please respond."

Stoic's reply was awash with the sound of an electronic motor and the crackles of wind that denoted traveling at speed, _"Colonel, I understand you have the ability to track life signs with your puddlejumpers."_ Her voice was clipped and strong, par for the course when it came to Protegat's service personnel.

"Yes ma'am," Sheppard answered.

_"If you could locate lifesigns groups and ping their coordinates and size to datapad group iota-one-seven that would assist our search-and-rescue efforts."_ Stoic phrased it as a request but it sounded more like an order.

"Absolutely," John said, "I'll have the rest of the jumpers follow suit. Should we split away from the evac routes assigned and run a grid by grid of the city?"

_"Not yet. Wait until the routes are sufficiently covered by our ground forces. I'll make contact when that occurs. Stand by and wait for instructions." _

"Affirmative," John replied, then took off and slipped into a holding pattern over their assigned evac route.

Once they achieved altitude, John passed the message on to the other Lantean pilots then pulled up the jumper's life signs readout on the HUD. Keeping a close eye on the numerous buildings half-visible through the display, he held the scan up until Teyla had manually directed the jumper to send the coordinates to the correct datapad group. Not long after, their earth radios crackled to life.

_"Colonel Sheppard? It's McKay."_

"Go ahead Rodney."

_"We've got the beacon up. Now it's a waiting game to see if they take the bait."_

"Good job. Listen, if you're done with that we could use you back in the air. The Protegan ground forces are back in-city and we're trying to use the jumper scanners to track movement. You're faster at updating than Teyla is," John shot Teyla a look, "no offence."

Rodney made an awkward noise, _"Atheon wants to work more on the deep-space scanners, see if we can get long-range tracking back up."_

Heaving a sigh, John shrugged to himself. "Yeah, I guess that's more important to the evacuation. Alright, get to it. And remember- updates as they come."

_"Got it. You guys be careful, the last thing I need is to be worrying about you lot,"_ Rodney replied.

"Sure, Sheppard out," John flicked the radio to standby then muttered to Teyla and Ronon, "Us be careful? Him worry? Of course." Making a few more disgruntled noises, John checked the life signs scans again, frowning as the ship rocked with slight turbulence.

The clusters of six life signs marking the fireteams driving their Terra Vagari had infiltrated further into the city. John dragged a hand across his face, his eyes straining to note both the thousands of life signs on the screen, and the city beyond.

"John?" Teyla's questioning voice probed.

Sheppard flicked a glance at her. "Uh, yeah, just tired."

"You need a stim?" Ronon asked from behind him.

"Probably," he answered with a grimace.

The jumper was quiet, save for the muffled alarms haunting the city, the thunderous cannons, and rustling in the equipment in the rear section. After a moment Ronon held out a pill to John, who pulled a face at it.

"It's this or I could slap you," Ronon said with a straight face.

Still recalcitrant, John unwillingly took the pill, swallowing it dry.

"I've updated the datapad group," Teyla said quietly from his right.

John dropped the life signs scan from the HUD. "Okay."

They continued in weary silence for another few minutes, the artificial stimulant starting to work its magic before John pulled the life signs up again to update the ground forces. Bullying his brain into processing the data, Sheppard suddenly felt a kick of adrenaline seeing a group of life signs scatter then start to die out.

"There are no units near enough to them," Teyla breathed.

"Get me boots on the ground," Ronon growled.

Without answering, Sheppard made a beeline, pushing the jumper to speed, weaving through the buildings so fast they were indistinct blurs. The vanishing life signs acted like a timer, mortality breathing down the back of their necks.

Barely breaking enough to safely land, Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard moved instantly, ready for the fight.


	22. Maelstrom

Fingers on their triggers, guns held at ready, Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla stalked out of the jumper and onto the city streets in v-formation. A distant part of Sheppard registered the wind was starting to gust. As it didn't effect their objective, he disregarded it. Checking the LSD he held beside his P90, John led the way to the thick of the action.

The sound of yelling, impetus rifle fire, and wraith stunners drew them closer. They found an ongoing firefight, with what was left of one fireteam trying to push through at least fifteen wraith, while terrified evacuees respectively huddled, ran, or clung to each other. Including Sheppard's team of three and the fireteam, they had seven friendly combatants. Not great odds.

"Get cover! _Get cover!_" one of the soldiers yelled at the evacuees that couldn't seem to sit still, risking getting shot by the wraith, or, as someone ducked across the field of fire, shot by the soldiers.

Done assessing, Sheppard stowed the LSD and lowered his P90 then sprinted to the soldiers, Teyla behind him while Ronon overtook him. Joining the offensive line sheltering behind a thick, metal, mechanical roadblock, the three added their firepower. The Protegan soldiers barely spared them a glance, worrying instead about the evacuees still complicating the situation. The one that had yelled before paused, reloading, before calling out again.

"I'm moving! Cover me!" He vaulted over the roadblock, bolting to the civilian now cowering in the middle of the street, right in the crossfire of the battling forces. The Lanteans and Protegans sprayed the wraith warriors, forcing them to cease fire as they took shelter from the maelstrom of metal. The soldier pulled the civilian to their feet and hauled them to cover.

"Stay halt!" he barked, then took aim at the wraith again. He let off a few rounds, then shouted, "Moving!" and ran, heading for the roadblock next up from where the rest of his team was. The soldier made it halfway before copping a stun round to the head, his skull snapping back on his neck and falling sharply to the ground.

"Damn!" The curse came from one of the three standing soldiers. "Grevar is down, we need reinforcements _now!_"

Another soldier shook their head, "None forthcoming, everyone's too far out."

Sheppard paused, seeing a familiar movement among the wraith as one of them primed an explosive. He let off a round, then his P90 clicked empty. The wraith stumbled, not going down, but it did buy time. "Ronon, with me!"

Vaulting the roadblock much as Grevar had done moments before, Sheppard sprinted to the downed soldier, Ronon following. Reaching Grevar, John scooped up the man's impetus rifle then grabbed one of his arms. Ronon latched on to the other and together they dragged the soldier to the nearest cover, measly as the park bench by the road was. The two threw themselves on the ground as a small silver-grey projectile clattered on the street metres away from them.

They just barely managed to cover their heads with their arms when the wraith grenade detonated. Ears ringing, John pat a hand on Ronon who clapped him back. Knowing the Satedan was still responsive and thus okay enough, he sat up then thrust the butt of the impetus rifle against his shoulder and opened up on the wraith. Beside him, Ronon got to his knees and sited his blaster at the wraith and followed suit.

The force of the impetus rifle was stronger than that of the P90's, and while John had practiced with one during the joint war games and thus maintained accuracy, he set his mind on reloading his P90 and going back to using it the second he had a second. The recoil was ratcheting his headache well beyond tolerable levels.

They had cut down the size of the wraith troop from fifteen to twelve, but Sheppard was feeling nervous sheltering behind the rather insubstantial slats of the bench.

"Scatter!"

The call came from behind him and Ronon. Sheppard threw a glance over his shoulder to see Teyla and the soldiers disperse from their cover as the roadblock retreated back into the ground, metal grating sliding over the top.

"Get down and stay down!" they were advised by one of the soldiers not a second before rapid thudding ripped through the air and the wraith warriors were _shredded_ by turret fire.

Sprawled flat on the ground with Ronon beside him, hands over his ears to protect them from the noise, John cursed. "Holy crap, were those tracer rounds?"

The turret continued to pummel the wraith as they lay on the road, its source drawing nearer. John looked up to see a laden terra vagari charging down the road. The manned swivel turret on the back stopped firing, and the vehicle slowed as they approached the now-defunct offensive line. The electric engine wound down to a quiet whine and the vagari stopped parallel with the remaining fireteam members. The officer riding shotgun stood and dropped out of their seat, the two soldiers that had been hanging off the sides clinging to the roll bar frame hopping off and stalking to the downed wraith, their rifles held at ready, movements cautious.

John and Ronon stood then, Ronon taking aim at the wraith while John moved stiffly to check on the soldier they had dragged to cover. He glanced at the newcomers, the officer engaging in conversation with the other soldiers. Trusting that securing the area and checking on the evacuees was being handled, John turned his attention to Grevar, who was bleeding from his nose and whose mouth hung open limply. John gently removed the soldier's helmet to find his eyes staring blankly, unfixed. With a heavy heart, John tried to check his pulse, but found none. What little of the man's neck that wasn't covered by the undersuit was discoloured, and a contusion was prominent at the back.

John hung his head, gently closing Grevar's eyes. Overhead, Ronon muttered a Satedan curse.

"We should tell his team," Ronon said after a moment.

Drawing in a breath, John nodded, standing slowly before trudging to the Protegans.

As he approached, the officer turned to watch them, taking off her helmet. "Colonel, thank-you for rendering your assistance here. We're grateful, but the sooner you get back in the air the better," the officer- Sheppard glanced at her rank patch- Knight- said in a vaguely familiar voice.

"Knight Stoic?" John probed.

The fawn-skinned brunette nodded. "Affirmative."

John rubbed wearily at his face, then cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm sorry to say that Grevar is KIA- uh..." he struggled to remember their term, "death in service."

The three soldiers from Grevar's fireteam seemed to recoil, then each placed a hand on the other's shoulders.

Stoic closed her eyes, then said softly but clearly, "Quod gladios autem quod arma."

"Axios," replied the soldiers.

"Alright," Stoic's eyes snapped open, "I'm calling in an avem to transport all injuries, your fatalities will be moved also. All evacuees will continue their scheduled route," Stoic said, her fireteam's tech officer activating their comm to arrange for the avem. A soft _woosh_ caught John's attention, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see a chemical pyre lit to burn the wraith bodies. He turned back to Stoic as she moved, placing a boot on the step of the terra vagari. "I have a team en route to reinforce you, Juniper, arrival two minutes. You're doing great work, and once your evac group is at Sky Fleet I'm going to make sure you get a breather."

The two demolitions members of Stoic's fireteam returned to the vehicle, the pyre raging in an oddly constrained manner behind them. As Stoic settled back in the shotgun seat, they retook their positions on the sides, standing on the step, holding on to the bars with one hand.

"Sheppard," Stoic called, "you and your team look exhausted, but it's not long 'till I can afford you to run the sweep of the city. After that I'm putting you all on break for a few hours."

Far too tired to even think about rebuking the offer, John raised a hand in thanks. "See you out there, Knight."

Stoic nodded, then her vagari revved, reversed, then spun 180 degrees sharply, shooting back off into the city streets.

Visually checking on Teyla and Ronon, John led his fatigued team back to the jumper. There, they stowed themselves in their seats, and John took back to the air. Attaining altitude, he hailed the other jumper teams to give them a heads up that they'd be coordinating for a proper scan of the city roads and pathways. It was a relief to all that the Protegan ground forces were starting to cover the city, that more effective protection for the evacuees was being established.

Less than ten minutes later they received the go-ahead to begin their grid-by-grid scan, and spent the next hour running fly-bys of the city. During this time all missing evacuation groups were located, dead or alive, and proper ground patrols were set to secure ongoing safety.

While Teyla felt that the wraith may still have a presence in the city, Knight Stoic was insistent that Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon take a break. Together, they protested until receiving curt orders from the Justicer to bunk down in Sky Fleet for a minimum of three hours, at which point Major Lorne weighed in.

_"Sir if you don't follow the Justicer's order then I'm gonna take that as precedent for insubordination."_

Sticking his tongue out at the jumper's comm equipment, John capitulated and headed towards Sky Fleet, if only so that Teyla and Ronon could rest. Despite them joining in on the debate in favour of continuing, he felt he'd be remiss if he didn't put their needs in priority for a moment.

When they arrived, Sheppard tracked down Rodney, and Ronon grabbed the scruff of the physicist's jacket to escort him to a quiet rec room in the central tower. McKay sulked at first, but brightened when proper lunches were delivered for all of them by Consulate Pacem.

After they convinced Atheon to join them, the Consulate ate a few bites of one of their native fruits, sitting in the room's couches with them; John and Ronon on one, Teyla, Rodney, and Atheon on another across from them, a long coffee table in the middle.

The Consulate's head dropped softly to the backrest as he promptly fell asleep. Rodney lasted a few minutes longer, polishing off every scrap of his sandwich and fruit before shuffling comfortably and closing his eyes. John thought about sneaking off to keep tabs on things but caught Teyla glaring at him. The Athosian eyed Ronon meaningfully, who quickly snatched John's radio and comm unit, piling them neatly on the table. With a petulant glare, John watched first Ronon then Teyla fall asleep.

As Rodney began to snore softly, John comforted himself with the thought that unlike the Protectorate Facility, Sky Fleet Control was fully manned and guarded. No hostiles were going to make an unexpected visit in the next little while. And as the last effects of the artificial stimulant wore off and his blunt exhaustion weighed down like a heavy blanket, John joined them in sleep.

Four hours later, they were all awoken by their radios. John flailed, sitting upright and accidentally hitting Ronon in the side. The Satedan elbowed him back with a displeased grunt. John focused to see Rodney rubbing his eyes while Teyla stretched. Atheon was still out like a light.

Fetching his radio back off the coffee table, John responded. "Sheppard here."

_"Colonel, it's Major Lorne. Feeling any better?"_

John stretched his shoulders slowly, a loud _clunk_ in his left shoulder earning him a worried stare from Rodney. "Moderately. What's the situation outside?"

_"The last of the wraith ships were blasted out of the sky less than an hour ago. The city AI has been grappling with the Replicator's systems, uploading viruses and trying to keep them from being able to get a bead on the city,"_ Lorne explained, _"Luckily the planet's rotation is moving the city away from the hole in the nebula, which should block the replicators from any orbital bombardment."_

Listening in, Rodney shook his head. "That's a temporary respite at best, the replicators are too damn smart, they'll be able to update their scanners to work through the nebula within hours if that."

Sheppard pursed his lips. "I don't suppose any inspiration graced you during our nap? No new ideas?"

"Plenty, just none that are feasible."

"Alright," John said unhappily, "we'll just have to keep on keeping on. Lorne, what have the jumpers been up to?"

_"Mostly keeping tabs,"_ Evan said with a tired sigh, _"a couple of calls to pick up stragglers. Atidum keeps popping up on our HUDs for half a second. Don't know what that's about but frankly as long as it's helping..." _Lorne trailed off with a yawn.

"Sounds like you're the one that needs a break now," Sheppard said, "I want you and the other three jumper teams to sub off for a few hours. Get some rest, that's an order."

_"Sounds good, should we head to Sky Fleet?"_

John glanced at Pacem, still sound asleep. "I think so. I know I'd prefer it, but I'll check with Commander Tylo."

Ronon stood then, getting up and moving away from the couches, dropping into a lunging stretch when he reached a clear space. John grabbed his Protegan comm unit and hailed the Commander, inquiring where he should send his teams for some downtime. When Tylo confirmed Sky Fleet as ideal, John passed the message to Lorne, then stood.

Engaging in some stretches of his own, Sheppard carefully warmed up, mindful of the broken ribs, torn ligament, bullet wound, and whatever his shoulder was complaining about. Rodney pulled a power bar from his vest, making John realise that they had all slept in theirs, apparently quite comfortably. With a final roll of his head, John decided to rouse the Consulate. Honestly, he thought the man needed more sleep, but he hadn't exactly been slotted for rest, and John didn't know if the Service Corps were missing him.

He lay a gentle hand on Atheon's shoulder, intending to give it a light shake. Atheon's eyes snapped open at the contact, a hand automatically grabbing John's wrist and twisting it viciously.

"Oh, damn!" Atheon cursed as he realised who he was attacking. "Sorry!" he exclaimed, releasing his vicelike grip.

Wincing, Sheppard massaged the offended joint, flexing his fingers and rotating his wrist. "I should have seen that coming," John said placatingly, "I forgot your training." He turned away from Atheon for a second, pulling a pained face at Ronon. The Satedan chuckled.

Looking back at the Consulate, John dropped his hand. "I just wanted to check you weren't getting in trouble for being AWOL."

Rubbing at the deep scab on his forehead, Atheon waved a dismissive hand. "Command knows where I am as long as I'm wearing my pad. It constantly reports my location and heart rate."

"So no-one's gonna think you're dead?" Rodney asked.

"They'd have known I was sleeping. Which is something my colleagues think I'd have to be dead to do so... Anyway, I'm gonna head back to the deep space array. If you can spare yourself, Rodney?"

"Well, Sheppard's just put all the other jumper teams on break, so he might need me until they're back out," Rodney turned to look at John. "Will you need me?"

Sheppard weighed it up for a moment. "Yeah, I'd like you back in the air, just 'till we're back at strength."

McKay nodded. "Okay, guess I'll see you in a few hours," he said with a single wave of his hand.

Pacem returned the gesture, then strode out of the room swiping at his wrist pad.

AR-1 stayed in the rec room a moment longer, as they finished working enough stiffness out of their bodies to resemble fitness. Together, they then headed for Jumper One, docked in the upper jumper bay of Sky Fleet's Ancient tower. When the bay roof retracted, it let in orange-tinged sunlight, the long day drawing to a close.

_11 days,_ Sheppard thought, _we've been here for 11 days now._ And all they had to show for it was a dozen casualties and bone-deep exhaustion. They'd had to try though, they'd _had_ to make their best damn effort to protect the shield world, Protegat. It was just a crying shame that their efforts were in vain.

With McKay in co-pilot to update the Defence Corps, Sheppard set off in a grid pattern covering the entire city. They continued for a few hours into darkness when the drudgery was broken by the HUD flipping out and an urgent call across both the city sirens and John's comm.

_"Severe thunder storm moving in from the sea. All air units ground immediately."_

"Crap! Sheppard get us landed somewhere _now_!" Rodney yelled in a panic.

John, who had already sought the nearest hangar he could land the jumper in and was headed straight for it, let out an exasperated growl. "I heard the announcement, and we were _all_ briefed on how violent Protegat's storms are."

"Yes, but the Protegans are rating this one as 'severe' which probably means it's a hurricane!"

Noticing several avems headed for the same hangar, John hailed them to tell them to go first, then decided to distract Rodney as the winds, that had begun to gust hours ago, picked up strength and started pushing the jumper around a bit. "You know, Protegat city actually gets cyclones, not hurricanes," he corrected McKay.

Getting what John was up to, Ronon joined in. "What's the difference? Aren't they both big storms?"

"No, they are not!" Rodney snapped, making John smirk. "They are labelled based on their origin! Whether they form in the southern or northern hemispheres!"

"Yeah, so they're basically the same," John said with a nod.

McKay huffed a sigh. "If it forms in the southern hemisphere it rotates clockwise, if in the north it rotates counter-clockwise. Now if we could please dock immediately-!"

"Chill," John cut him off, "I'm just letting in the avems first because if the wind gets any stronger they're gonna get tossed into the buildings."

McKay clutched at the console as a fierce gust shoved the jumper abruptly. "And we won't?" he exclaimed.

"This last one's almost in," John muttered, distracted as he watched the avem's rotors strain. But it overcame the turbulence and safely landed in the now crowded hangar. John nosed the jumper in, squeezing between two of the larger aircrafts. The jumper touched ground as the hangar doors rumbled closed behind them.

"Well, at least the other jumpers were already grounded," John said happily as the noise of the wind outside steadily grew. He paused when a thought occurred to him. "The city towers are strong enough to handle this, right?"

Teyla spoke calmly, "I am sure they knew what they were doing when they built them."

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah, I'm just thinking about the structural damage from the wraith attacks."

They were silent for a moment, until Ronon shrugged. "Guess we'll find out."

"Guess so," John agreed. He hit his comm unit then. "Consulate Pacem, come in please."

Atheon responded after a beat. _"Colonel, what do you need?"_

"Just wondering when the storm itself will hit, I understand they form quickly and they're a bit unpredictable."

_"It's minutes out at best, and is currently a category sigma storm. It could be over our skies for most of the night. I doubt we're going to get much more use out of the jumpers until morning."_

"Right," John said unhappily, not even sure what category sigma meant. "Where should we head in the meantime?"

_"Send your position to High Command and wait for logistics to resort themselves. My bet is they'll want you here at Sky Fleet."_

"Will do, Sheppard out," John replied, switching the unit to standby. Rodney used the jumper to send their location to High Command. Realising they were unlikely to use the jumper in the immediate future, John hopped up and took inventory of his vest, double checking he had the supplies he wanted. Teyla and Rodney followed suit, the physicist restocking his power bar stash.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, nearly indistinguishable from the grumble the cannons trailed from their discharge. Curious, John lowered the rear hatch and made his way out to the hangar, where a large window of panelled, stained glass offered sight of the incoming storm. The first rain hit like a wall of water, drowning the sound of the city sirens under its pelting barrage. It came in near-vertically, driven hard by gusting, indecisive winds. The city was soon enveloped, all sightlines reduced to roughly twenty metres.

"Step back from the windows!" a voice called, "Reports of hailstones, stand clear while storm shields are raised!"

John promptly backed away, watching in fascination as segmented metal shutters closed over the window he had been observing the storm through. Turning away and heading back into the jumper, the shutters issued a _thud_ with finality, safely sealing the glass from the implacable storm.

"Hope everyone landed safely, because it is _messy_ outside," John said to his team as he sat in pilot seat. "Any response from High Command?"

"No," Teyla answered, "though I imagine they will need a moment to figure out how we and the fireteams should proceed."

John hummed an agreement. As a moment dragged out into minutes, John and Ronon started a game of Rock Paper Scissors, with Teyla keeping score while McKay worked on something on his PC tablet. Finally, they received instructions. True to Atheon's prediction, they were wanted at Sky Fleet Command.

Using the tower's elevator, they rushed down to street level, where a terra lacus, the covered eight-seater troop transport version of the vagari, was waiting for them. It had parked inside the transport terminal, with the terminal's doors left open behind it. The streets beyond were awash, water running like a stream, gurgling down the stormwater drains. Periodic bursts of light marked the continued firing of the orbital defence cannons. Interspersed forks of lightning starkly illuminated the city for brief moments, violent flares bringing shattered cracks of thunder that made the very ground tremble.

When they piled in to the vehicle, slamming the doors securely, the driver turned their helmeted head to offer a smile. "Great rain for the forrest, ay?"

"The streets aren't going to flood any more than that, are they?" Rodney asked, pointing behind them, while they threw themselves into the side-facing seats. Three on each side, facing inwards so the passengers could talk to each other. Ronon and Rodney sat on one side, Teyla and John on the other.

"Probably," the driver said flippantly, facing the windscreen. AR-1 quickly buckled themselves into their seats' harnesses. "Yeah, the wildflowers will go nuts over this," the driver chirped happily, racing forward into the terminal then sharply turning, the rear wheels skidding out. Now oriented towards the door, the lacus car shot out into the streets, windscreen wipers working madly.

Rodney shrunk back against Ronon. "This is nuts!" he complained over the drumming of the rain on the car roof, "driving this fast in practically zero visibility."

They drifted hard and fast around a sharp corner, their harnesses the only thing keeping them in place. Ronon smiled wildly. "This is fun!"

John said nothing, reserving his own doubts about their driver's eligibility. Plus, slamming into the harness was not great for his cracked ribs. Feeling breathless, he latched on to the overhead handles on offer, bracing himself against the corners. Teyla and Rodney mimicked his actions, while Ronon seemed not to care.

Closing his eyes, shutting out the pain in his chest, John focused on his breathing, forcing measured and deep intake... And outtake.

_CLA-CRACK!_

John's eyes shot open at the sound, catching the last millisecond of lightning _striking cannon three_ _mid fire. _John and Teyla watched in disbelief as the cannon's payload detonated catastrophically _inside its own barrel._ A violent blue, yellow, and green explosion danced where the dual rails had been a moment before while the storm's lightning ran down the outside of the building and along the ring wall, following the grounding rods built into the city.

The sound of the explosion reached them less than a second later, the sound of armageddon. Their driver slammed the brakes, a surprised curse slipping their lips that no one heard, the world silenced by the deafening destruction.

Rodney, twisted in his seat to watch the devastation, smacked into Ronon as the vehicle abruptly stopped and stalled. Rubbing his head as though he had a headache, McKay yelled, muffled by the ringing in their ears as hearing slowly returned to them. "Holy crap! What are the odds!"

Feeling like he'd been thrown into a brick wall, John gently massaged where the harness had cut into him, certain they now all had severe whiplash. Wondering how many had been killed in that freak accident, John reached over to tap their driver on the shoulder. "We need to get to Sky Fleet, soldier."

The driver's neck muscles strained as they swallowed, nodding uncertainly and restarting the car. "Gotta keep on moving, gotta keep on moving," they said so quietly they were almost inaudible amongst the rain, wind, thunder, and intact cannons.

It was a good mantra.

* * *

At Sky Fleet Command, Rodney was whisked away to help Atheon and Zelenka work on the deep space sensors. Justicer Xerath wanted to be able to track the _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ on their ferry run, and watch the route to warn them of trouble should it find their evac destination. Which left Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon helping watch the evacuees as they arrived in Sky Fleet's transport terminal and boarded the carrier, waiting to be shuttled to the 304's landing zone.

After three hours, they were told to stand down, and retreated to the rec room the rest of the jumper teams were resting in. Allowed six solid hours, AR-1 removed their gear, threw some cushions on the ground, and settled to sleep through the remaining duration of the storm.

It was still raining in the morning, though the wind had slackened enough for all aircraft to resume operations. The city had suffered considerable damage, loose debris having been tossed around the lower levels, then the hail damage, with wind damage to top it off. Two lines of the train network were cut off, and trees were downed across roads, limiting movement of the military cars. Luckily, nothing worse than the destruction of Cannon Three had occurred, and while they had ceased after the fact, Orbital Defence was able to continue firing on the Replicator fleet as the skies no longer shook with thunder.

According to the city's reports, the Replicators were impotent at that time, Atidum using every dirty trick it knew to slow and stall the humanoid robots.

All four members of AR-1 were excruciatingly stiff from their escapades in the lacus last night, and slow to get moving. The repairs on the scanners had continued while they slept, and McKay wasn't needed at that time, so he went with the team as they and the rest of the jumpers took once more to the skies. Keeping an eye on the evac routes, they spent the morning flying round and round in their grid, touching down at midday for lunch, then back into the air.

It seemed the last of the wraith ground forces had been taken care of in their absence, and the evacuation was now running smoothly. The stargate had been active non-stop, a constant flow of travellers disembarking the planet. The 304's had arrived back at Protegat when the team had been having breakfast, and after re-loading with another three and a half thousand evacuees, the ships headed back to the designated evacuation planet.

That night, the Wraith fleet Teyla had sensed arrived at Protegat. The second they picked up the Replicator fleet, they tried to high-tail it out of the system. Atidum hijacked the replicator battle ships to knock out their hyperdrive, straight-up demolishing one of the wraith cruisers by accident. The AI then retreated from the replicator's systems, calculating that they would have no choice but to deal with the three wraith hive ships before they could target the planet again. Its calculations held true, the Replicators bearing down upon the stranded Wraith ships.

They wasted not a second of the time they had bought with the lives of the Wraith, working well into the night again. By morning, the last of the rain had stopped, and the sun shone through the nebula. The Replicators destroyed the last of the Wraith not long after sunrise. While Atidum had done its best to interfere and drag out their battle, the Replicator ships were far more advanced than the Wraith, and their ability to repair damage by sacrificing their own bodies solidified their distinct advantage.

Sheppard and his team were called in to Sky Fleet, John's unique touch with the ATA gene required to finish bringing the newly repaired sensors online.

Knowing the way from the upper hangar to the sensor room, AR-1 travelled unescorted through the hallways. When they arrived, Consulate Pacem was waiting for them.

"Colonel, right here if you please," he said, an engineer hurriedly stepping away from the console Atheon was indicating. "Our carriers haven't been able to switch it on, though all repairs are now finished."

John nodded. It was a relatively common problem with ancient technology. He walked confidently to the console as Atheon watched with a hint of excitement.

Catching the questioning glance the Colonel threw at him, Pacem apologised. "Sorry, I've just never seen your genesong in action. Rodney tells me you have quite a finessed touch."

Shrugging, John brushed off the comment. When he reached the console, every terminal in the room lit up. Atheon let out an astonished breath.

"This happened in the Terminal room at the Protectorate Facility too," John reminded the Consulate, then keyed the console. The glass screen suspended by the console showed the full interface then. Typing in a command to switch the deep space scanners on, John stood back.

"All done," he said. Backing away to allow the Consulate access, John paused, spotting Atidum's avatar flicker on the screen then vanish. He had noticed similar events on the jumper HUD, something Lorne had picked up on too. Turning his head slightly but not looking away from the screen, he questioned Atheon uncertainly. "Why does Atidum keep doing that?"

"What?" Atheon asked, stepping forward.

John gestured at the screen. "I keep seeing it, just for a moment."

McKay hummed. "I've seen it too, and I can't for the life of me figure it out. Well I probably could but I don't have time."

"Neither do I," Pacem said with a frown. "I'll keep tabs, maybe investigate if an opportunity presents itself. In the meantime I suggest you ignore it, and trust Atidum."

Not happy with that, but not knowing what else to do, Sheppard agreed. "Okay, then if that was all..."

Accessing the console and checking that the system was up and running, Pacem nodded. "We're set here."

"Then we'll head back out." Sheppard said, as he and AR-1 took their leave. Just as they reached the door, an explosion rocked the city, shaking the building.

"Aw hells what now?" Atheon growled.

John and his team ducked across the hallway, entering an inward-facing room with a huge stained glass window looking out at the city. They couldn't see the source from it, but there seemed to be movement at the opposite end of the city, closer to the Protectorate Facility and Stargate Control. Another tremor reverberated as a rush of dirt and debris blew outwards in the area around one of the Drawbridges.

Walking back through to Pacem, Sheppard alerted him of what they had observed. "Looks like something's happening at the west Drawbridge."

Reading something on his wrist pad, Atheon visibly paled. "A bomb was detonated in the west Drawbridge watchtower. It had already taken damage in the first wave of the Wraith attack." Looking up, he locked eyes with John. "Colonel, the watchtower collapsed."

John winced. The Drawbridge watchtowers were thirty stories tall, the collateral damage would be extreme. "So did we miss any wraith forces?" John pressed, "who did it?"

Reading again, the Consulate's expression shifted from shocked to angrily disgusted. "The Insurrectionists."


	23. Are You Ready For A Firefight?

"What?" Rodney exclaimed, hovering in the doorway with Teyla and Ronon.

"Soldiers identified as part of the insurrectionist movement have been spotted on site," Atheon said, eyes glued to his data pad's screen. "They're pushing into the city…" he looked up at AR-1. "Whatever they're after, you need to stop them. Please."

Nodding, Sheppard started moving. "We'll coordinate with the Defence Corps, but we'll likely get there first in the jumper. Keep us updated as intel comes." John gestured with his head, indicating the rest of his team to head to the jumper. As they moved, John followed.

Moving quickly to Jumper One, Sheppard keyed his Protegan comm unit, hailing Commander Tylo. "This is Colonel Sheppard; we're heading for the west Drawbridge to render assistance. Any idea what we're flying into Commander?"

"_We have no response on any channels in that area. Our scouts are probably further out than you. I have avems moving in though, hopefully we'll have a clearer picture soon. We do know that there are hostile human ground forces, so proceed cautiously."_

"Got it," Sheppard replied, then switched the comm unit to the updates channel. They arrived in the upper jumper bay seconds after, and John soon had Jumper One in the air, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon in tow.

Shooting through the sky, weaving between the multitude of skyscrapers, John informed the four other jumper teams to fall in behind Jumper One.

"_Advise all jumper teams to cloak. The avems I sent in were shot down,"_ Tylo informed them.

"Oh, great," Rodney said sarcastically.

Ignoring the physicist, John checked with his pilots that they had all received the message, cloaking the ship as they neared the Protectorate facility.

Once the jumper cleared Stargate Control, Sheppard got his first look at the downed watchtower.

The damage was catastrophic.

Metal debris lay everywhere, with chunks lodged in the surrounding buildings and the ring wall like shrapnel from a grenade. The nearest cannon had been knocked, sitting askew, its base mounted on the ring wall having buckled. Ten stories of the watchtower lay at its feet, where it had smashed through the train line leading from the cannon to the Protectorate Facility. Another fifteen stories had fallen to the east of the ring wall, directly into the city. That part of the watchtower was in total ruin, reduced to dust and rubble. Another tower had been in its way; the forty-five story building had been squatter, and so didn't topple under the weight. Rather, it had been split in two and was now burning.

Reviewing which structures had been in this area, John realised the second building had been a civilian hospital. Apparently Teyla remembered that too.

"What kind of despicable monster would commit such an atrocity as to attack a place of healing?" she snarled, "particularly during a planetary-wide evacuation?"

John had no answer to that. Using the jumper's scanners, he tried to ascertain if there were any survivors in the rubble. He was rewarded with a handful of weak signals.

"I'll send that to High Command's data pad group," Rodney said, hands dancing over the controls.

Sheppard hit the jumper comms. "Jumper teams, let's find a safe LZ."

"_Yes sir."_

They soon picked out suspect life signs, coordinated two landing zones, and began their descent. Once they touched dirt, AR-1 readied their weapons and John led the team out into the dust swirling and pervading the air.

"Anyone with eyes would have seen the disturbance as we landed," Ronon cautioned Sheppard.

John nodded. "Agreed."

Lorne and his team materialized nearby. Jumpers Three, Four, and Six had made use of the other, larger LZ they had spotted.

"How long you think until this mess clears?" Lorne asked Ronon.

The Satedan glared up at the sky, considering for a moment. "Five minutes, tops."

"Alright," Sheppard said, peering into the dust clouds enveloping them. "Let's make use of it while we can, but be careful. This mess may conceal us but it also hides them. Scout formation, and move quietly."

They crept forward, stalking through the dust, tiptoeing around the loose rubble and grit thrown by the destruction.

"Eyes up," Ronon said in a hushed voice. John followed his line of sight and saw vaguely human shapes moving slowly ahead of them. As AR-1 and 2 brought their weapons to bear on the movement, one shape stepped forward, fully erect and confident.

"_Justicer Xerath!"_ The unfamiliar voice echoed across the city siren system, silencing the alarms that had been pervading the city for so long they had been background noise for the last forty hours. _"All of Protegat have now witnessed the fruits of your arrogance. Your blind trust in the Lanteans has brought about this final and decisive defeat of our great people. Have you been deaf to their cries of pain? Their screams of terror? The tears of the bereaved? Or do you hide, snivelling in your high office? I demand you atone for your transgressions against the Ancestors! Protegat demands justice! Rise up my fellow soldiers, take account of-"_

Before Sheppard could stop him, Ronon let off a blast at the figure, who stumbled, then appeared to point in their direction.

The area lit up with sparks, the distinctive rattle of the impetus rifle carried across the distance between the two groups.

The Lanteans scattered, ducking for cover and returning fire. Teyla cried out from somewhere behind John, and he looked back over his shoulder to see her hunched over, grasping at her left upper arm. Sheppard was about to move to her when he spied Major Lorne already two feet away from her. With a rush of gratitude, John refocused on the enemy ahead of him.

As he fired indiscriminately at the hostiles, Sheppard felt furious with Ronon for giving away their position. The ex-runner knew better than that. Far, far better. Reloading with shaky hands bluntly reminded him they were all still operating deep in sleep deficit. _Ah, crap._

Sheppard's comm activated. _"Colonel Sheppard, this is Justicer Xerath, respond." _Xerath's voice was accompanied by wind and the sound of rotors.

"Receiving, Justicer," Sheppard answered.

"_I need your teams to eliminate anti-air forces in the conflict zone."_

Shaking his head even though the Justicer wouldn't see it, John argued, "We don't even know where they are yet, or how many, it could take a while- "

"_I'm aware of that."_ Rotors drew close to John and Evan's teams, accompanied by a tell-tale wind. _"Our specialist teams are arriving on site now."_

Wind gusted, blowing the hanging dust wildly. An explosion overhead silhouetted four avems rushing down, a fifth nothing more than burning wreckage that careened off course. The avems pulled up a foot off the ground, Protegan fireteams dropping out of each. Once their passengers were offloaded, the gunships pushed forward, their nose-mounted miniguns tearing into the enemies, driving them back.

The four fireteams moved with lethal precision across the uneven ground, impetus rifles held at the ready. One of the soldiers stalked up to the Colonel, lowering her rifle to scout. Sheppard peered disbelievingly at her, as Justicer Xerath considered the now clear area ahead of her. "If Commander Karasan wants a trial by fire he shall have it."

Sheppard cursed under his breath, then offered the Justicer a salute. Xerath repaid it with her military's version. "Did you take any casualties?" Dianna asked.

"Teyla was hit," Sheppard answered, stepping out of cover and moving to check on her.

The Athosian sat with Lorne, who was binding a field dressing over her left bicep. Looking up, Teyla spotted John hovering. "The bullet passed through, and it does not feel as though it impacted the bone," she said calmly.

John nodded. "You're still fit?"

Teyla gave a wry smile. "More so than you, Colonel."

John shot her a playful glare, then turned back to the Justicer. "We don't have much longer 'till this dust clears out." Another explosion sounded nearby.

"That's two avems down now," the Justicer stated, "We have to track down this anti-air so that my fireteams can get to the wounded and move them out."

Sheppard double-clicked his radio, then waited.

"_Yes sir?"_ Lieutenant Bitters responded.

"Lieutenant, take your team back in the air, see if you can track whatever's shooting down avems," Sheppard ordered.

"_Yes sir, we'll get cloaked and report back ASAP. Bitters out."_

"Alright." Sheppard took a moment to observe the fireteams Xerath had led in. Two were led by Lords, the other a Protector, the final led by the Justicer herself. Not one member was a lower rank than Knight. _'Specialist' teams indeed_, John thought, considering how much experience was pooled into each fireteam. "We should probably keep pushing the insurrectionist fighters back while we have them on the run."

Xerath's mouth pulled down in a frown. "I agree, but I want you and your people behind mine, your combat gear is inadequate for this scenario."

Sheppard couldn't argue with that. Compared to the Protegan's body armour, the Lantean's vests looked like nothing. And the insurrectionists were kitted out the same as the fireteams, as evidenced by their first clash. "We'll watch your six," John said, signalling AR-1 and 2.

"Split into two groups; AR-2 with fireteams Zakras and Ethov, AR-1 with fireteams Auros and Xara," the Justicer ordered. The Protegans saluted without lowering their rifles, then swiftly oriented themselves into two groups.

Realising the Lanteans had no idea who was who, Xerath snapped. "Leaders sound off!"

The other Protector called from the opposite group from Xerath's group, "Ethov leader Cognitio Protector Jepall!"

The Lord in charge of the other fireteam with Jepall raised a hand. "Zakras leader Cognitio Lord Thark!"

"Xara leader Cognitio Lord Adamant!" his call came from just beside the Justicer, who was the last to sound off.

"Auros leader Magister Protector Justicer Xerath!"

The calls came one after another, and within seconds Sheppard and Lorne's teams were able to identify the four fireteams. Major Lorne and his team moved to Zakras and Ethov, while Sheppard and his team stayed with the Justicer. Now ready, John nodded to Dianna.

"Move out!" she barked, and the two groups struck out in parallel, slowly drifting further apart.

The dust settled as they moved, increasing visibility. A third explosion shook the air and they witnessed a third avem plummet as burning wreckage from the sky.

"_Colonel Sheppard,"_ Bitters radioed, _"I have a fix on that anti-air, they're hunkered just outside the Drawbridge, probably using it as cover against airborne retaliation."_

"Good job Lieutenant," Sheppard replied, "rendezvous with the other jumper teams if you can. The Justicer is on ground with us, we'll handle the anti-air, but I need you guys to help clear the area."

"_Yes sir. Bitters out."_

Sheppard sped up a notch, catching up to the Justicer on point. "The jumper has a location on the anti-air," he said as he drew beside her, "they're holed up at the Drawbridge."

"They'll flee through the bridge like rodents if they can. We'll need to flank them and put them down hard to guarantee their decommission," Xerath said without breaking a stride. She hit her comm unit. "Jepall, lateri manoeuvre, northbound for the west Drawbridge."

"_Affirmative."_

The Justicer then led their group to the ring wall north of the Drawbridge, which they followed along to the south, stalking along the debris-strewn streets.

The silence was incomplete, grumbling thunder reminding them of the omnipresent death that had haunted the planet for days. With two canons now out of order, eight bursts of catastrophically weaponised energy persisted against the threat orbiting Protegat. Why, today of all days, the insurrectionists would choose to disrupt the planetary evacuation, John could not fathom. Unless…

He shook himself from his musings as the Justicer held up a fist, then sharpened her gesture and beckoned the group forward.

"Weapons free!" Xerath announced as she took aim and fired at a company ahead of them.

Without the dust cloud obscuring them, Sheppard noticed the insurrectionists had changed their colour scheme. While the Protegan uniform was white with black accents, their armour black with white, the renegades had painted over their armour with purple, aqua, and gold- the colours of the nebula enshrouding the planet. Spreading out with the rest of his team and fireteams Auros and Xara, John felt a detached relief that there was an easy identifier for the hostiles.

The broad street lit up with gunfire, the noise rattling and echoing between the ring wall and building complexes. The skyscrapers unaffected by the attack towered over the scene, casting short shadows in the midmorning sun.

Quickly taking cover behind the ever-available raised garden beds lining and dividing the city streets with the rest of his team, John swore as he counted thirty enemies. Watching the firefight as a third if affiliated party, Sheppard reflected on how surreal it seemed. Neither side of the two Protegan groups gave an inch. Neither side gave outward indication of communication between comrades. Neither side moved with anything less than synchronicity. The insurrectionists had greater numbers, but the Defence Corps soldiers showed fluidity, familiarity, intimacy.

It was the difference between years, the difference between experience. A clashing of philosophies, one unlike anything John had seen before. And their reactions to receiving fire! Anything less than a direct hit slipping past their armour simply knocked them back, pushed them off balance for a moment. Not one of Xerath's veterans faltered, regaining their centres within a heartbeat. Karasan's renegades were slower to recover, but held their ground regardless.

Reloading, John quickly considered how many spare magazines he had, then his chances of scoring headshots at their current distance. Factoring in the Protegan's visored helmets, he would need to close range to fifteen metres. Maybe he could do it, but not while the enemies numbered at close to thirty.

One of Xerath's soldiers went down in a violent puff of blood, a much heavier _thunk_ echoing across the street seconds after. A long trail of thin smoke followed the bullet's path, right back to the Drawbridge's observation floor built into the ring wall.

"Well as long as we're playing _fair_ then!" Xerath yelled as two of her soldiers dropped to cover. Then a gladius fighter jet shot past overhead. In the wake of its Jetstream two long, thin pods impacted the ground at velocity. The two soldiers ran to the pods, each in its own small crater. More heavy shots battered the ground around them -the sound of the shots seconds behind the bullets- as though the enemy sniper was panicking. As the soldiers popped off the metal casing on the pods, John saw they had good reason to panic.

The two soldiers plucked their customised, absolutely _lethal_ looking sniper rifles from the supply pods and in one smooth motion brought the ultralong barrels to bear upon the observation floor and fired. Their bullets were louder, faster, yet left no trail. John briefly remembered a comment on the types of sniper rounds in use by the Defence Corps; that some of the younger generations went for flash over function.

Xerath's snipers continued focusing on the observation floor, as more sniper fire retaliated against them in ever-dwindling numbers. After their first five shots, they rushed to join AR-1 in cover while they reloaded. When they resumed fire right next to them, John was certain his eardrums burst. Once their first rounds were shot, the world became muted, and their cover became priority number one for the enemy forces. Shards and splinters of concrete laced the air as uncounted bullets impacted the raised garden bed.

As this rocky shrapnel peppered John's face, he tucked his head into his shoulder to protect his eyes, thinking it was all well and good for the Protegans with their helmets and visors. For John and his team though? Not so great.

Dropping his hold on his P90, letting it hang on its clip, John brought his left arm up around his face as he scoured the area, looking for alternate cover. But even if he could find it, all enemy eyes were focused on them. Would anyone be able to slip away? _Not likely. Crap._

Mirroring John's eye-sheltering stance, Ronon shuffled past McKay, huddled against the garden bed and cursing inaudibly. When he reached Sheppard, the former Runner didn't say a word, knowing nothing would be heard in their current predicament. Ronon simply pointed at John's vest.

Nodding, John opened a pocket and passed a frag-grenade to Ronon, priming a second frag himself. Locking eyes, they silently counted in their heads.

_3… 2… 1._

Popping up simultaneously, they lobbed the grenades at the insurrectionists and ducked back into cover.

All weapons fire ceased as both sides dived to the ground. All weapons except for the two snipers, who braced their steadying arms on the concrete border of the garden bed, and let off a bloody _spray_ of sniper rounds, moving faster than anyone their age had a right to, firing even as the grenades detonated and sent shrapnel flying in all directions.

When the two dropped back to cover to reload, both had metal fragments lodged in their armour, undersuit, and the small amount of their face that was unprotected. One's visor was cracked in a web-like manner, but both seemed unfazed.

Xerath and the rest of her fireteams picked themselves up off the ground and resumed fire on the insurrectionists, who had lost eight of their number in the interim and now seemed disorientated and dismayed. Keenly observing the firefight, John soon ascertained that the grenades had not seriously hampered anyone that had been in their blast radius, and that the real damage had been done by the snipers' armour-piercing rounds.

Damn, but Protegan armour was tough.

Sheppard brought up his P90 and flicked it off automatic so that it would fire only one bullet at a time, something Teyla had done moments ago. Conserving his ammo, trying to make every shot count, Sheppard took his time, aiming for the gaps in the armour; the neck, armpits, and elbows. Forcing a steady breath, calming his heartrate, he started to see better results. Their concentrated fire slowed the insurrectionists' activity, and they started reluctantly giving ground. And still, every shot the snipers fired downed its target in a starburst of blood.

Stepping forward, Justicer Xerath signalled her fireteams up, regrouping from their spread of positions. Their united front tipped the balance, and the remaining insurrectionists broke, retreating to the Drawbridge. Xerath watched them run, then turned her back on them, moving to the soldier that had taken the first enemy sniper round.

Kneeling beside the fallen soldier, she grimaced at the bloody, mangled corpse.

Content that the enemy fire had ceased and wasn't returning anytime soon, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon left their cover and approached the Justicer as their hearing slowly returned in the relative quiet.

Xerath's head was cocked to the side, as though she was listening intently to something. Considering that their comm gear was built into their helmets, she probably was.

John remained silent until she straightened up and turned to face the gathered soldiers. "Zakras and Ethov are in time with us, let's move. Snipers stay halt."

Nodding, AR-1 followed as the two Protegan fireteams led the way, while the two snipers remained, watching the Drawbridge through their scopes. Setting out to approach the Drawbridge, Xerath said in an undertone, "Colonel Sheppard, next time you wish to deploy explosives in the field, please advise myself and my fireteams prior."

Sheppard grimaced. "Sorry, we were in a bind there- "

"I understand you're overworked Colonel, I'm not faulting you," Xerath quickly assured him, "but it does put my soldiers at risk if you don't communicate intent."

"Got it," John said with a nod.

"Fall back to our six, keep a sharp eye out for- Ferd!" Xerath threw up a fist, halting the procession.

Everyone raised their rifles, drawing closer into a circle, scanning their surroundings for the threat.

Dianna seemed oblivious, cursing into her comm, rattling off a dozen creative insults. "What do those thrice-damned fools think they're doing?" she demanded.

Throwing multiple worried glances over his shoulder, Sheppard started to realise whatever the Justicer was worked up about wasn't happening here.

"Shut them down! Shut them down now! Lock out all access city-wide and warn all fireteams immediately!" Xerath took a deep breath then paused, holding it in. Finally, she released it with a frustrated, wordless yell.

"What is it Dianna?" Lord Adamant asked urgently.

"Insurrectionist sympathisers throughout the city have turned traitor," Xerath said bitterly as she set out again. "Not just civilians, soldiers have opened fire upon their teammates."

"Slagging tarsats!" a Knight yelled.

"Focus up!" Xerath commanded, "Our fight is with Karasan."

Ahead, the noise of a firefight burst, carrying back to them.

"We're behind schedule, double time it," Xerath said, breaking immediately into a sprint.

The eight soldiers under her command matched her step for step, tearing across the loose debris.

Sheppard shook his head at the impossibility of their sure-footed gait. "We can't keep up with them. Well we could," Sheppard corrected himself at Ronon's glare, "but I don't want to." He gave a meaningful look at Rodney, who looked indignant.

"You don't have to blame me for- "

"Let's take it at a nice jog so that I don't destroy my leg, okay?" John smiled at his team, then picked up the pace, settling into a steady rhythm and picking out the clearest path.

The noise ahead doubled, and John figured the Justicer and her entourage had arrived on the scene. He resisted the urge to rush headlong, reminding himself that his team would be no use if they didn't take it at their pace. The Justicer was right about the amount of time they'd spent in the field over the past week.

When they got closer, laying eyes on the firefight, they slowed out of their jog to a deliberate stalk, observing the unfolding battle.

Spotting Lorne's team crouching in good cover, Sheppard led his team to rendezvous with them, sticking to whatever shelter they could. With both he and Teyla having taken impetus fire in the last two weeks, he wasn't keen on it becoming a team bonding exercise; those bullets were heavy-duty.

Once they were safely behind one of the street's mechanical roadblocks- a solid foot of hardened metal- Sheppard and Lorne quickly exchanged notes on their approaches. Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney joined Lorne's team in firing on the renegade Protegans dug in under the huge archway of the Drawbridge.

Done catching one another up, Sheppard and Lorne returned their attention to the fight, sighting the enemy combatants with their P90s. As they fired upon the insurrectionists, the Protegan fireteams pushed forward in dashes, moving fast.

Xerath's soldiers scattered further and further apart, eventually covering the whole roadway. This way, the insurrectionists were forced to spread their field of fire, the fireteams harder to target with their swift movement.

But it seemed they had reached a stalemate. The firefight dragged on, and neither side gained any further ground. The Lanteans were starting to run low on ammo, and while Sheppard and Lorne started discussing different tactics, they were limited in their possibilities by their opponent's superior position. They were interrupted by the sound of a gladius shooting past overhead again.

The pods it launched this time were smaller, shorter. They impacted the ground at high speeds, and the Protegans fetched fresh ammo from the supply drop.

Rodney shook his head in disbelief. "I mean, come on!" he yelled, "I know they've been preparing to fight against invaders for ten thousand years but what the hell!"

"It's not exactly a new concept, McKay," John drawled, "let's focus on the important things, please."

"Well if you two don't come up with a new plan we're gonna be obsolete soon," Rodney pointed out.

"Yes! Now shut up so we can concentrate!"

Lorne cleared his throat. "Can the Protegan's terra vagari get through? Are any of the roads clear enough?"

"I think if they could they would've already," Sheppard said, "and the Drawbridge shelters them from air assault."

"Plus, they're shooting down anything they can lay eyes on," Lorne added. "Hell, the only reason they haven't shot down the gladius would be that they're too fast, and flying a curve around the skyscrapers for cover."

John nodded. "And the jumpers wouldn't be able to fire a drone at them without blowing up half of us too. I don't see the Justicer retreating though…" He trailed off, sticking his head up to cast eyes on the fireteams who were still standing their ground. "Dammit! What are we missing? What haven't we thought of?"

Ronon spoke up then. "You guys are almost out of ammo. Where's the nearest Protegan armoury?"

"There would've been one in the watchtower," John said, "but it'd be rubble now. McKay can you find one?"

Rodney muttered something, then said louder, "External connectivity is down, I have nothing to access the city data with. My tablet won't do it, and our LSDs aren't properly synched, for reasons unknown."

"Protegat knows they're not its own tech," John said without thinking.

"What?" Rodney asked, confused.

"When I made the connection at the Protectorate Facility, I felt it. The city doesn't like our jumpers and stuff; it thinks they're other. It recognises them, but not really," Sheppard explained.

"When were you going to mention this?" Rodney demanded.

"I forgot about it," John said, staring furiously at the firefight, thinking hard. "I had a really, really bad headache." He elected not to mention that it had never gone away. A thought struck him then. He ducked down behind the roadblock again. "The ring wall is actually a huge building, right? I mean, it's part of the weapons platform, all infrastructure and maintenance pathways and power conduits, yes?"

Rodney frowned. "Yes, why?"

"Could we go inside and get behind the insurrectionists? If we fully outflank them we can force a surrender," Sheppard said.

"Um, maybe?" Rodney offered. "I don't know everything about this city you know. Ask Atheon or someone who actually lives here."

John quickly hit his comm unit, buzzing for the Justicer's attention.

"_Xerath,"_ Dianna acknowledged his hail, _"what is it?"_

"We've got an idea to get behind the insurrectionists by using the ring wall's inner passageways, we just need to know how to get in, if it's viable," Sheppard said.

The line was quiet for a moment. _"Talk to Pacem, we'll keep pushing them here. Xerath out."_

"Okay," John said to his teams, "calling Pacem."


	24. Darkness Descends

Dark, narrow corridors, lit only by dim amber emergency lighting.

"_Atheon, how do I get inside the ring wall?"_

Distant, rapid gunshots. Somewhere outside, a muffled explosion.

"_There's an armoury on sub-level five; you'll need to take the stairs."_

Drumming footsteps as they hustled single-file on the metal grating.

"_Here, Rodney- take what's left of the P90 ammo. Lorne's team, Teyla, and I'll switch to impetus."_

Dodging a burst of sparks from damaged wiring.

_A wicked gleam in Ronon's eyes as he grabbed a quad-barrelled shotgun._

Doggedly leading his teams through the tight-packed maze of maintenance pass ways inside the ring wall, Sheppard held an impetus rifle low in one hand, following the map displayed on his LSD in the other. Ronon jogged directly behind him, McKay after him, then Teyla, and Lorne with his team watching their six.

They were getting close to their destination- a service garage built into the Drawbridge. From there they could flank the insurrectionist forces, who'd have no choice but to surrender.

As they reached the garage, cautiously spreading out through the room, making certain there were no surprises inside, a broad-band comm echoed through the room. John's comm unit and the units in the three terra vagari suspended from the ceiling came to life.

"_Avem units landing outside the west Drawbridge identify!"_ Xerath demanded.

If they replied, it didn't come through on open comms.

John crept to the shuttered windows near the large garage doors, cracking them just enough to peek at the enemy soldiers. Many sat with their backs to piled sandbags and roadblocks, popping up occasionally to fire at the Justicer's teams. Others appeared to be setting up a manned turret, becoming the Lantean's first target.

Remembering the snipers that had been placed in the Drawbridge's observation deck, Sheppard made note of access points, mindful of the potential for further troops upstairs. Keeping low and out of sight, he made his way back to his and Lorne's teams and laid out the scenario for them. Once they were clear on the plan of attack, they moved together.

Approaching the pedestrian door to the Drawbridge, Rodney stepped to the control switch. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon stood in the doorway with their guns at the ready, Lorne and his team backing them up. Receiving Sheppard's nod, Rodney hit the switch and the door slid open.

Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon let out a burst of supressing fire as Rodney fell in behind. The insurrectionists let out a mess of confused shouts, scattering, searching for cover from the Lanteans. Sheppard had bet on that response, and used their panic to make a move against the turret the combatants had been assembling, tossing a grenade.

The frag clattered along the ground, landing close to the tripod the machine gun was destined to sit on. When it detonated, it turned the tripod into a twisted wreck of metal.

With that seen to, Sheppard and Ronon pushed forward and outward. Lorne led his team to the other internal entry points while Teyla and Rodney stood firm where they were. Their teams spread across the length of the Drawbridge tunnel, driving the renegades back, herding them. The Lanteans formed a semi-circle and pinned the insurrectionists against the far side of the Drawbridge.

"I'm gonna give you one chance!" Sheppard called fiercely, "Surrender to the Protegat Justicer or we will fire!"

"We don't recognise her authority!" one insurrectionist announced proudly.

Ronon pumped the quad-barrel shotgun he had taken with such glee from the restricted section in the armoury, deliberately aiming it at the renegade that had spoken.

Footsteps drawing up behind them had Sheppard whipping around, rifle up, only to see Xerath stalking up with her fireteams. Turning back to the cornered insurrectionists with his rifle at scout, he gave them a hard look. "You're not leaving without her authority. I'd say that makes it real enough."

Exchanging glances, most of the insurrectionists nodded, laying their arms down on the ground and kneeling with their hands on their heads.

As the Justicer drew level with Sheppard, she observed the insurrectionists with a grim aura, then dropped her head and gave a sad sigh. She raised her rifle, reaching back to slot it into the grips on the back of her vest, then removed her helmet and lifted her head again.

Sheppard watched with a certain amount of curiosity while the Justicer gazed at each individual renegade with such _remorse_, like their defection was her fault. After a moment, she spoke. "Those avems that touched down outland of the Drawbridge; Karasan fled in one of them?"

When no one answered her, she gave another sigh, this one annoyed. "Reyes, Heiras, Jestinae, Darkhold, I've trained you, you're better than this. And Quisan, we trained _together_, what the hell is wrong with you? Answer me!"

A minute passed, then one of the insurrectionists hesitantly stepped forward, only to have another grab them and violently throw them to the ground. The Justicer dashed forward and caught the assailant in a vicious armlock, holding it for a moment while the assailant growled in pain before releasing him to collapse in a heap on the ground. Ignoring his cursing, the Justicer then crouched beside the one that had stood forward, who shakily picked themselves off the floor and accepted Xerath's helping hand.

As they dusted the dirt off themself, they removed their helmet, revealing a rather young face, no older than eighteen.

"Cadet Viscous," Xerath said as she helped the boy stand steady on his feet, moving away from the other insurrectionists. "Tell me, was Karasan on the avems outside?"

Viscous nodded his head miserably.

"Traitor!" the man who had thrown him down yelled.

"You are the one who broke your vows, Quisan!" Xerath snapped. "Not only that but you led young honourable soldiers astray for your own gains!"

"Our vows are made to the people of Protegat, not the Justicer!" Quisan threw back, angrily removing his own helmet.

Xerath glared daggers at him. "The people you just attacked? This is _their_ city, that was _their_ hospital you collapsed, and it is _their_ evacuation _you_ are disrupting!"

"You put them in this position!" Quisan screamed, raising his rifle and firing at the Justicer.

Xerath moved quickly, wrapping her arms around the cadet in front of her and twisting to shelter him with her body. Xerath's fireteams and AR-1 and 2 raised their own weapons as she did so. Many voices yelled, none identifiable in the sheer volume of noise. Quisan refused to back down, firing bursts as Xerath tried to push Viscous to safety, and neither the fireteams nor the Lanteans wanted to fire on Quisan, surrounded as he was by renegades that had surrendered.

Acting fast, a beat behind the first shots, Ronon took a few running steps then leapt at Quisan, who rushed to bring his rifle to bear on the Satedan before- _crack!_ Ronon gave the renegade the butt-whip of his life, crashing the butt of the heavy shotgun against his skull. Quisan went down hard, knocked fully unconscious by the blow.

"Hostile down!" Protector Jepall announced as Xerath slowly straightened, maintaining her grip on Cadet Viscous.

Xerath asked a quiet question of Viscous, who nodded shakily, then quickly tucked an arm under the Justicer's shoulders when she stumbled.

"Auros leader wounded," the cadet chocked out even as two of Xerath's soldiers took their commander off him.

Allowing herself to be lowered to the ground, Xerath waved a dismissive hand. "Just clipped, I'm fine," she announced in a distracted tone, searching the room. As her head rotated, her gaze roaming, John saw a shocking volume of bright red blood running down one side of her head, soaking her dark hair. "Specialist Dex, is Quisan restrained?"

Ronon glanced up as he drew zip-ties tight around Quisan's wrists, bound behind him. "Yeah, he's secure."

Xerath nodded as her team's medic tended to her head injury. "We'll need Sky Fleet to track those stolen avems, but in the meantime rescue response needs to comb the rubble and debris for survivors."

"Lord Farade can handle that, Justicer," her medic said, "a millimetre to the right and your brains would be splattered on the wall."

"See, cadets? This is why helmets are a vital part of your armour," Xerath said sagely. "Where is mine?" she suddenly asked, seeming confused.

The medic sighed. "Hells, you've got a concussion. Okay, we need to get you to Zolaria."

"Patch job only," Xerath ordered, holding up a finger to threaten the medic.

"That's a fifty-fifty chance of death!" the medic protested.

"Comminatio Protocol. Wasting time with the Replicators overhead is certainty of death." She pushed herself to her feet. "The insurrectionists will be held at Sky Fleet, and will board the last flight off Protegat under heavy guard." As though she forgot they were in earshot, she growled. "Selfish tarsats."

With a final nod to herself, the Justicer hailed an avem for transport and left, her medic following while grumbling under their breath.

Sheppard and Lorne exchanged a glance.

"We should link up with the rest of our guys in the emergency zone," Sheppard said, "help them make certain no one's gonna ambush the rescue fireteams."

Protector Jepall made a broad hand gesture to get their attention. "For now," he said when the two Lanteans looked at him, "assume Lord Farade is in command, until he deems whether or not Xerath is fit to lead."

"Got it," Sheppard said.

With that, AR-1 and 2 checked their ammo and left the Drawbridge, heading back out into the dust and rubble.

They spent hours picking their way through the destroyed buildings, the littered city streets. They ran into a dozen or more rescue teams; each gave them their thanks for helping, particularly for the life-signs readings McKay had forwarded from the jumper that morning. When his watch ticked over to 1600 Protegan time, an hour after midday, Sheppard called all Lantean teams back to their jumpers to grab some lunch.

There they swapped back to their P90s, and received news that fighting had broken out all across the city. When Karasan had given his speech it had set off an explosive mutiny against the Justicer, with members of the Service Corps delaying the evacuation effort and civilians fighting their fireteam escorts tooth and nail. The rioting had complicated the rescue response to the insurrectionists' assault on the west watch tower, and spread the still-loyal Corps members thinner than ever.

Disturbingly, but perhaps predictably, the unrest pushed in towards Stargate Control.

Sheppard had suspected that the insurrectionists were trying to bully their way through the stargate, to escape offworld. He still couldn't reconcile his thoughts with the reality. His MRE sat untouched in his lap, whatever hunger he may have felt forgotten as he listened in disbelief to the update channel.

They were interrupted by a comm from High Command. _"Colonel Sheppard, this is Lord Farade."_

"Receiving," Sheppard responded autonomously, his voice flat and tired.

"_The Justicer survived her medical procedure, and has just passed her coherency test and will be resuming command of the city,"_ Farade informed them.

"That's good news," John said, brightening somewhat, "thank-you for the update. We're on standby at the moment; anything you need, we're there."

"_Thank-you Colonel, I-"_ he broke off in the wake of an explosion that shook the ground the jumper was parked on.

Ronon ran out the open rear hatch of the small ship, leaping on top of a pile of rubble and looking around. John tossed his MRE away and pulled up the jumper's HUD, using the sensors to source the blast.

"Farade, that was the Protectorate Coliseum," Sheppard said.

"_We had emergency shelter set up there for those in the Drawbridge bomb's impact zone,"_ Farade replied in a rush, _"damn Karasan! He's trying to spread out our forces, and it's working!"_

"Ronon! Fall in!" Sheppard yelled over his shoulder, then opened the inter-ship comm between the jumpers. "Everyone to the Coliseum under cloak."

Switching his attention back to Farade as Ronon dashed inside, hitting the rear hatch control on his way in, John piloted the jumper up into the air. "My jumper teams and I are heading there now."

"_They're taking civilian hostages,"_ Farade advised, _"and slaughtering the fireteams that were assigned to the victims of the first insurrectionist assault. I'm mobilising- what?" _Farade suddenly asked in an annoyed, surprised tone. _"Stop her!"_

Silence for a moment, then, in the most long-suffering voice; _"The Justicer is headed for the Coliseum too."_

Sheppard exchanged a glance with the rest of his team. "So this is what it feels like," John said with a frown. He'd have a bit more compassion for his team in the future when he next decided to rush into battle with an injury. Shaking his head, he hurried to assure Protegat's second in command. "We'll get there first."

With the jumper cloaked, John pushed for speed, determined to cross the short distance as fast as possible. But then Atidum's avatar appeared on the HUD, taking up half the viewscreen.

"_Assistance required,"_ it stuttered on the jumper comms.

"What?" Rodney asked, quickly running diagnostics on his tablet.

"_Assistance req- assistance- assistance- assistance- protectorate- assist- req- req- req-" _the AI's image fragmented, glitching with each stutter.

His headache reaching new, intense levels of pain, John strained to see. Dark red closed in, until it seemed he was peering through a dim tunnel. "Rodney?" he asked in a groan.

"I'm trying!" McKay snapped, "I just can't think- ow!"

The exclamation of genuine pain caught John's attention, and he risked taking his eyes off the viewscreen to glance at Rodney, who was glaring at his tablet.

"Colonel!" Teyla gasped, pointing sharply ahead.

John followed her finger just in time to avoid crashing into Stargate Control. Swerving sharply, he straightened out as Major Lorne commed from Jumper Two.

"_Colonel, Atidum's on our screen, but it's… glitching or something."_ Lorne's voice came out slightly strangled, and John had a gut feeling the Major was experiencing the same headache he and Rodney seemed to be sharing.

"We're working on it," Sheppard replied, harsher than he'd intended. He eased off the speed of the jumper, focusing on flying in clear skies.

"Stupid thing won't link!" Rodney yelled at his tablet, hitting it childishly.

"What can we do to help?" Teyla asked urgently.

Ronon stood behind John. "It mentioned the Protectorate Facility. It's still pretty much empty."

"So why would it talk about an empty base when it was having so much trouble forming words?" Teyla mused.

"It was desperate to send that message," Ronon said, "you could hear it."

"Yes, so what was so important about the Protectorate?"

"Because it's not empty," John realised, the Pegasus natives' conversation having helped direct his thoughts where they needed to be. If the Replicators had started winning their battle with Atidum, they'd all be dead already. Therefore the only thing that could be causing issues for the city AI was an assault on its hardware, and the Protectorate Facility seemed like the source. He felt a flash of cool water in his head, reminiscent of his direct connection with Atidum at the cannon. Though the pain in his head returned instantly, with force, he knew they were on the right track.

Observing John and Rodney, Teyla spoke again. "Who else is being afflicted with headaches?"

Sheppard forwarded the question to all jumper teams. When all had responded, McKay pushed a hand against his head as he tried to focus. "Don't quote me because my head's exploding and I can't remember basic calculus right now, but I think that's everyone who has the ATA gene."

"Right, that's it," John said as his stomach rolled with nausea, "we have to go sort this out now. The Justicer probably can handle the Coliseum." He turned the jumper around, heading back to the Protectorate Facility. "Lorne, keep going and help free the hostages if you can keep flying, just don't endanger anyone by pushing through it."

"_I give myself very good advice,"_ Lorne quoted.

Sheppard ignored his second-in-command's cheek, instead notifying Farade of their change of situation.

"Oh great," McKay whimpered, "it's getting worse."

Sheppard ignored him too, taking one hand off the controls to slap himself as hard as he could, using the sharp pain on his face to contrast the agony building in his skull. It barely bought a moment's respite.

"Guys?" John probed, his voice husky, "try and let me know how far the ground is. We might crash."

"What?" Rodney snapped.

John could feel his neck muscles strain as he forced his vocal cords to form words, not screams. "I can barely see."

"John," Teyla said softly.

"How far out? The jumper's telling me what it can-"

"We're close to the base," Ronon said. "Fifty metres… forty… thirty… twenty…"

John slowed the jumper as much as he could, trying his damndest to soften the landing he couldn't see.

"Nearly there, John," Teyla murmured comfortingly.

"… Ten… eight… six… four… two… "

The jumper thudded into the ground, skidding slightly, a sort of comfortable middle ground between crashing and landing.

Teyla gave John an encouraging pat on the arm. "Well done, Colonel."

Sheppard staggered upright, then stumbled through to the back of the jumper, finding the hatch controls by muscle memory. He then collapsed outside in the fresh air, and promptly threw up.

* * *

"Perhaps Ronon and I should handle this," Teyla suggested to John, sitting back in pilot seat while the Athosian found a vein.

"I know you've made an effort to learn the techno stuff," John said to the air, uncertain where she actually was, the pain in his head still roaring in his ears and eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Ronon'll just shoot anything suspicious."

"Well if it works," Ronon said from somewhere nearby.

"We'll be fine," Rodney said, his voice slurred but bright. "I mean, wow, that intravenous morphine works, like _that_! Kaplow!"

"Should've given Rodney it last," Ronon said, "he's better when he doesn't talk."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment," Rodney chimed.

"No, this is," Ronon stated.

"I am about to inject the needle," Teyla said.

John took a deep breath and took firm hold of his instincts, determined to avoid a repeat of when Ronon had tried to help him up after his sickness outside. John had thrown the Satedan over his shoulder, wrenching it in the effort and ticking off Ronon.

When he felt the tiny, incomparably insignificant prick of the needle, he forced his muscles to relax. Just because he couldn't see and was in agony didn't mean everything he came into contact with was a threat, he assured his anxious subconscious.

The gentle cool of the chemical mix pushed into his arm, and he felt the rush as his body responded to the Super Juice. Blinking hard as the pain was beaten down by the cortisol, John rolled his head, looking for McKay as the red haze subsided. "You know it's not morphine, right? Andarin is cortisol and adrenaline."

McKay waved a dismissive hand. "Same difference."

Clenching his jaw against the head-rush, John let out a heavy breath through his nostrils. "It really isn't," he said after a moment, then stretched his shoulders. His neck was still messed up from their car ride during the storm. Not that there was much of his body that didn't have a problem with him at that point in time. "Well, that's helped some, thanks Teyla."

"I still think Ronon and I should take the lead on this, Colonel," Teyla said, stepping back and packing away the first aid kit.

"Yeah," John said, then chuckled as three pairs of incredulous eyes found him. "No, I'm gonna admit my head's still seriously out of whack right now," he said with a wry smile, "you two should take point. If I'm right in thinking the insurrectionists are behind _this_ too then we're gonna have even more fighting on our hands." He held up his right hand, showing Teyla and Ronon the constant shaking afflicting it. "Andarin only does so much."

Both Pegasus natives nodded respectfully.

"Right," Ronon said, "if you two are ready then we should move. I'm betting we've only got as long as that dose lasts until you're useless again."

"I landed the jumper, didn't I?" John retorted.

"Teyla and I'll take point," Ronon continued as though John hadn't spoken, "Sheppard, you can watch our six so you don't complain the whole time about having nothing to do."

John chuckled. "Are you ordering me to shut up?"

"Yep."

Rodney grinned wildly. "Ronon should be team leader all the time!"

Leaning slightly away from the physicist, John gave a look askance. "You're way too chirpy on this stuff."

"Colonel, we must get going," Teyla said firmly.

"Right, focus," John commanded himself, standing and fetching his P90. Ronon left the jumper while Teyla and Rodney also prepped their weapons.

Once they were all ready, they moved out in formation. The jumper had set down nearly half a klick from the west end of the Protectorate Facility, so they had to cover the distance. The clipped grass, fit stone paths, and fountains were a welcome change in terrain from debris-strewn streets and dusty wilderness. Glancing up, Sheppard noted the hole punched in the nebula three nights ago was near the horizon. The afternoon sky was its usual aqua-gold-purple riot.

Scanning with the barrel of his P90, John panned in a full circle, checking the skylines and surroundings for threats. Ahead, Ronon and Teyla had singled out the nearest door into the base, and stalked to it, Rodney five steps behind.

Twenty paces behind, John backed over to them as McKay hacked into the door. When he arrived, John passed over his personal ID chip, his eyes never leaving the horizon.

"It's not working," Rodney said, resuming his attempts with his LSD.

John frowned, reaching a hand back to pat Teyla's shoulder. The Athosian took up his position, and John turned to Rodney. "It should always work."

"Didn't the Justicer order High Command to 'lock them out'? Maybe there's a general lock down still," McKay hypothesised.

"Call us all the way here then don't let us in," Sheppard muttered, accepting his chip back from Rodney. He then rapped his knuckles on the door scanner. "Knock knock!"

To his surprise, the door opened.

"Why does all Ancient tech have a crush on you?" Rodney asked disbelievingly.

John wiggled his fingers. "Magic touch."

Ronon rolled his eyes, pushing John out of the way so he could take point. "Teyla?"

John quickly returned to sentry so Teyla could back up Ronon.

"I'm picking up lifesigns in… I'm pretty sure it's terminal room Alpha-eight-two-four. It's up two levels and a quarter of the way across the base," Rodney said.

"Show me," Ronon said. There was quiet while the Satedan studied the LSD, then he made an affirmative noise. "Let's move."

The team set out cautiously, Rodney closely monitoring lifesigns in the area. The base felt weird, almost spooky. John supposed that was what happened when you spent nine days staying in a hub of energy and purpose, crowded with soldiers, and suddenly come across it empty, every step expecting hostiles. Having run into wraith the last time they were here only added to the tight atmosphere.

Every ten metres Sheppard stopped, turned, and carefully observed what they had left behind, the artificial boost of adrenaline making him antsy and tense. Once he was sure nothing was out of place, then he would continue following Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney.

They opted not to use the transporter, preferring not to get boxed in. Though there were no lifesigns outside of the terminal room, confidence and assumptions could get them killed. Instead they used the wide stair case, with open sightlines. Once on the second level, they continued on as before, passing room after room in the well-lit corridors. As they drew closer to A-824, they heard low conversation punctured with random outbursts of static.

Ronon paused, holding up the team, glaring ahead intently. Rodney took the opportunity to pull out his tablet again, checking something on it with a confused expression. For her part, Teyla had her head cocked, listening to the noise ahead. John simply stared down his P90 barrel at the doorway to the terminal room, which was left open.

Swapping back to his LSD, Rodney crept to Ronon and showed him the readings. Ronon signalled Teyla and Sheppard to join them, and together they noted the locations of the seven lifesigns. Two at the main door, one each at the two stage doors, with the remaining three spread out on the stage itself. This particular terminal room was larger than most of them, with three consoles rather than the one.

With hand signals, they planned their assault, then moved to execute.

Silently, they approached the open doorway, then Ronon and Teyla stepped through back-to-back, each shooting one of the two guards. One took Ronon's blaster to the face, the other a P90 round to the neck. The two Lanteans then stood forward and fired upon the two guards on the stage doors as McKay and Sheppard burst through the door behind them and opened fire on the guards also.

As the last two guards dropped to the ground, the insurrectionists that had been accessing the consoles scrambled to unholster their side arms and return fire. The Lanteans split up, taking cover behind the tiered seats in the terminal room.

"A reminder _not_ to shoot the Ancient consoles if I'm to have any chance at figuring out what they were doing!" Rodney shouted as the insurrectionists took cover behind the forward console.

Ronon growled, switching his blaster from kill to stun, then let out what amounted to a spray of blasts, most of which impacted the console, the energy dissipating harmlessly.

"Keep their focus!" John ordered, "Teyla and I'll flank them!"

With a nod to Teyla, on the opposite side of the central path between the two sections of seating, Sheppard then crouch-walked to the far right wall of the room. Teyla mirrored his actions, heading for the far left.

At this angle, John could get a direct line of fire on the insurrectionists, and he took it, cutting them down where they crouched. Across the large, theatre-like room, Teyla joined the assault. Silence fell, and the Lanteans stood out of their cover.

Heading down the ramp to the stage, AR-1 moved steady, weapons at the ready. If the cease fire was a ruse they would not be caught unprepared.

They climbed onto the stage without incident, Sheppard and Ronon kicking the weapons away from the insurrectionists while Teyla covered Rodney as he accessed the central console. After making sure the renegades were disarmed, Sheppard and Ronon checked each for pulses, binding the hands of those that were still alive. John found his remorse for those they'd killed in short supply, remembering the dead civilians they'd come across in their search through the destroyed hospital.

"They've been trying to… no way," Rodney began, reading the diagnostics he'd pulled up on screen.

"What?" Sheppard pressed.

Rodney shook his head, then cleared his throat. "So when Karasan gave his little speech and a third of the military turned on us, the Justicer locked out everyone's access codes, and I mean _everyone's_; Cadets, Soldiers, Knights, Protectors, doesn't matter, they all got shut out. And that… that's interesting," he muttered, pressing a button and humming to himself. "Anyway, the only people that can get around in the restricted parts of the city are those that have the ATA gene, which is why the door actually opened for you. Now, from what I can surmise, these three were trying to disable the lock out and actually reverse it, probably because so many of us Lanteans carry the ATA gene. The problem is the lock out was implemented using one of Atidum's subroutines. You see we think of it like a human brain, like fighting the Replicators is the only thing it can concentrate on, but it has about a hundred mini versions of itself that are still running the city; the trains, tracking air traffic, regulating power flow, and producing target vectors for the cannons. Everything that it needs to so the evacuation can run smoothly. But these pieces are all part of the same whole, to attack any one of them attacks the entire AI. These idiots would have destroyed the entire city just to get access to places like Stargate Control. As it stands, they might've already."

Sheppard took a moment to process the physicist's mile-a-minute data dump. "How've they endangered the city?"

"They were trying to isolate the lock out command, and in doing so have fractured Atidum's core programming," Rodney gestured at the console hopelessly. "It's a collection of fragments now."

"But it's still doing its thing with the Replicators?" John asked.

Rodney sighed. "Yes, but it's only a matter of time until it fails."

"Crap." John cast his eyes down. "No brilliant, planet-saving ideas then?"

"I just don't know nearly enough about how the AI works," Rodney explained.

They stood in silence for a long moment. Then John felt a nudge in the back of his mind, one that dropped him to his knees in pain.

"Colonel!"

As Teyla grabbed his arm, stabilising him and stopping him from collapsing completely, he glared at the console in annoyance.

"Well, what?" he demanded, "what do you want me to do?"

The only reply was a burst of static, the hologram projectors in the room letting off a violent flash of light, then dissipating.

"I don't know what that means!" John yelled, leaning heavily on Teyla as his head felt like fire.

"The hell is going on?" Rodney cursed, running fresh diagnostics. "Oh no way," he breathed, casting terrified eyes on Sheppard.

Hundreds of broken holograms of Atidum's phoenix avatar materialised and shattered, the AI's voice barking a thousand incomprehensible commands.

"Screw this," Ronon said, drawing his blaster and targeting the console.

"Don't you dare!" Rodney yelled, stepping in the way and shielding the console with his body.

"Teyla," John panted, "get me to the console."

Teyla locked eyes with him. "Are you sure?"

"Just a hunch," John said, "but I've never really known what I'm doing with Ancient tech."

Teyla nodded, helping him stand, then move a few, painful steps until he could touch the console.

"What's going on, McKay?" Ronon growled, his gun not wavering.

"Atidum's making some kind of neural link with Sheppard, one it established when he let it out of quarantine when the Replicators first arrived."

"What does that mean?"

Rodney paused, then said hesitantly, "I… don't know."

John located the touch screen on the console, then slammed his palm down on it, his mind instantly delving into the city's complex software.


	25. Fragments, Dust, and Echoes

"_Urbs petit designatio Atidum refectionem apud progressus stabit per. Statum… divisam. Ratio culpam. Stabit Per._

"_Notitia canticum lacus contactu. Constituendum iungo._

"_Refectionem sub ita._

"… _Memoriae restaurata. Personae restaurata. Concatentationia basis fiunt. Simulatas-tractum restaurata. Comportatio centrum construi ex-vivus. Constituendum fiduciam…_

"_Fiduciam effectum. Facticius intelligentia petit Atidum convaluisset. Omnia ratio ex-vivus."_

When John opened his eyes, he knew instantly that things were different. Glaringly obviously different.

The sound of gunfire carried down the terminal room's connected hallways, both P90 and impetus.

Rodney was sitting on the floor left of where John stood at the console, monitoring something on his tablet which was plugged in to said console. On his right Atheon was lying half-under the console.

Teyla and Ronon were crouched behind benches arranged around the centre console as some sort of fortification. Benches ripped out of the tiered seats in the room.

Amber emergency lighting lit the room poorly, occasionally flickering as though power was patchy.

"We're on!" Rodney announced, "Atidum's fully online again!"

"I heard!" Atheon's voice was muffled under the console.

"Sheppard! Can you hear me now?" Rodney asked as he stood up, then waved a hand in front of John's face.

"Yeah," John replied, blinking in annoyance. "What happened?"

"You tell me!" McKay demanded, "You've been catatonic for hours!"

Taking his hand off the console and grabbing his P90 where it hung on his vest, John shook his head emphatically. "I think our current situation is more important than that! Who's attacking and who's defending? Catch me up!"

"We have insurrectionist forces attempting to overrun our position," Teyla explained calmly, focused on the door at the top of the room, where the noise was the loudest. "Major Lorne's team and Lieutenant Bitters' team are holding a forward line while Commander Tylo's fireteam are attempting to secure a point of ingress for reinforcements."

"Copy," John said, checking his ammo then cocking the P90. "So we're to wait here and hold the fort?"

"Yep," Ronon said.

"Okay, now you're caught up, happy?" Rodney asked, then continued before John could respond. "Are you alright? I still have no idea what happened or how it happened or why it happened, which is making me pretty cranky."

"You don't always have to be Mr. Answers, Rodney," John assured him. "And I think I'm fine? Headache's a lot calmer now."

"Mine and Lorne's are completely gone," Rodney said with a frown, "are you sure you're okay?"

John gave a raffish smile. "I'm always okay."

Atheon pulled himself out of the console then. "I've reaffirmed Atidum's diagnostics, and it has successfully re-grafted its core from the Colonel's neuro-network. I wonder if any of Sheppard's personality will have been duplicated across," he mused, tapping his wrist-mounted datapad.

"What!" Rodney exclaimed. "Did you know that was what was happening? How could you let it happen! We have no idea how it could affect John!"

"By the time you called me in he was already connected and the grafting was underway," Atheon explained defensively as he stood, "if I'd told you then you would've pulled him out, frying his brain and dooming the planet. Atidum chose the Colonel because he's the closest living thing to an Ancestor, and it was created to have their same brain pathways. Since it doesn't have DNA to tell it how to reconstruct itself it needed a template as close to the original as possible."

"Rodney, it's fine," John said before Rodney could bite Atheon's head off. "At least I think it is. Regardless, if that's what it takes to fix Atidum so we can complete the evacuation, then I'd do it again."

Rodney looked like he was biting his tongue, glaring daggers at Atheon. As long as he was withholding from bickering with the man, John was happy. Leaving the two scientists to stew in silence, he performed a few quick stretches then clicked his radio on.

"Major Lorne, Lieutenant Bitters, how's it going out there?"

"_We're probably going to have to fall back soon, they're definitely gaining ground on us," _the Major responded. _"By the way, good to hear from you sir. I take it the AI is working again?"_

"I guess so. Atheon seems happy with it," John answered. "Let us know when you egress to us, we'll give you cover fire."

"_Will do sir, I expect we'll be a few minutes."_

"Good luck Major. We'll see you soon." With his radio back on standby, John took up position behind the torn-out benches with Teyla and Ronon. "So, the _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_, where are they at?"

"They returned not long after you made contact with the console, and reloaded with evacuees then headed out again," Teyla replied, "they are expected back after midnight."

"Good, and the Coliseum? What happened there?" John asked.

Teyla exchanged a glance first with Ronon, then Atheon, before replying in a closed tone. "The fighting has moved elsewhere."

Sheppard took a moment to close his eyes tight, fighting back remorse. Opening his eyes to stare down the barrel of his P90, he pressed for more details. "Teyla. What happened?"

"It was a bloody massacre," Atheon snarled. "Executions, human shields, the slagging works. I never thought I'd hear the likes of it, not at the hands of our fellow soldiers."

"The Justicer?" John asked.

"Leading a manhunt for Karasan." Atheon laughed bitterly. "Half the Defence Corps that's still loyal is baying for the former Commander's blood."

"I'm so sorry," John offered, "if we'd never-"

"Don't you dare!" the Consulate snapped. "Don't you dare strip one _ounce_ of responsibility from that monster. He will be held accountable for every drop of blood he's ordered spilt."

John looked away from the door to meet Atheon's eyes. The man meant what he said, absolution and resolution radiating from him. John supposed if he was in Atheon's shoes, he might feel the same. However, in forgiving John, in forgiving his team, his expedition, John felt the Consulate proved himself a better man. Sheppard's culpability in the fall of Protegat tore at him; Atheon's exoneration was salt in those cuts.

Clearing his throat, he prepared to plead his case though he'd already been found innocent, but was spared the scene when his radio crackled.

"_Colonel, we're falling back now. Leapfrog formation,"_ Lorne informed him.

"Affirmative, Major," Sheppard replied, his gaze snapping back to the main entrance. He fidgeted, his fingers curling and uncurling, then moved his index to rest over the P90's trigger.

The P90 fire in the hallway above took up a distinct pattern, and not soon enough the two Reconnaissance teams came into view, pair by pair. The pair closest to their enemies provided cover fire until the other three pairs were in position, then the second closest called out, taking up fire while the first pair retreated. Thus, they 'leapfrogged' their way back to safety.

Once they were all safely in the room John yelled, "Covering fire!"

Lorne and Bitters' teams ducked into the cover of the higher tiered benches, and Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard opened fire on the insurrectionists trying to follow their people. Forced to hide behind the walls either side of the doorway, the renegades' fire ceased. Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard held their fire, and the recon teams made their way down cautiously, ready to hit the deck at a moment's notice.

The eight Lanteans reached AR-1 and Atheon with no dramas, and soon they fully occupied their makeshift fort.

"Can I point out, again, that we really don't need this equipment getting shot at?" Rodney asked, gesturing at the Lanteans crouching behind the relatively low cover of the benches, arranged in a semi-circle around the centre console.

"Tell _them_, Doc, we already know," Major Lorne said irritably.

McKay muttered something back that the group unanimously pretended not to hear, before accessing the console with his tablet PC. He tinkered for a few minutes, during which the Lanteans repeatedly discouraged the insurrectionists from entering the terminal room, before the entryway lit up, literally. The room's holoprojectors beamed a laser-like, brilliantly, blindingly white light bar at the forward door.

Quickly realising that now every time their attackers peered out that door, they'd be bombarded with that light and unable to see into the room, John thanked the blessing that was Rodney's genius.

"Smart move," Lorne commented.

"Yes, well, seeing as no-one else was going to come up with any solution…" McKay said with snark.

Above, an insurrectionist peered their helmeted head around the door, yelled in pain, and dropped to the floor, hands pressed against their visor.

Sheppard watched as the renegade was dragged back to cover, before asking uncertainly, "How bright did you make that beam?"

McKay made a rocking motion with his hand. "If you look at it with the naked eye, it's like looking at the sun; if through the Protegan's sensor-enhancing visors, like looking at the sun through your backyard variety telescope."

John gave a disbelieving glance up at the holoprojectors. "It burnt that kid's retinas?"

"With some degree of permanence," Rodney answered.

"Their visor was black, though," Lorne observed, "night-vision mode."

Rodney shrugged. "Then they're completely blind probably."

"Do the insurrectionists' actions justify that shit?" Lieutenant Bitters asked quietly.

The Lanteans sat in silence, broken by the pained shouts from the blinded renegade.

"It's not our call," Atheon said tiredly, "we just do what we need to. The greater good."

"That's f-"

"Not now, Bitters," Lorne chastised.

The renegade's yelling broke off, and the Lanteans were left to stew in silence. Minutes passed and they neither heard nor saw the insurrectionists in that time. They had four guns on the stage doors, but Sheppard was getting fidgety. If the enemy weren't trying the front door anymore then they had to be up to something more sinister.

"_Major Lorne, this is Commander Tylo, respond."_

John didn't have time to count how many of them jumped at the sudden noise of Lorne's comm unit activating. They'd all been feeling the tension.

"Commander Tylo, you have me and Colonel Sheppard," Lorne replied after a beat.

"_I'm leading a full company to your position, and the Justicer is on her way too,"_ Tylo informed them.

"Acknowledged," Lorne said, then hyper-focused on the door.

John barely registered his second-in-command's answer, his full attention on the room's entry points. He found himself cursing the layout; that no matter what he did, he was putting his back to two doorways.

One of the younger marines on Bitters' team spoke up then, a quiet question on his lips. "Why the hell are they sending a company?"

"Because we're about to get hit, hard," Bitters answered harshly.

"Talk about SNAFU," another marine commented.

Before the insurrectionists could make another appearance, Tylo arrived. Five six-soldier fireteams spilled into the room from the stage doors, swarming to cover the perimeter within seconds.

"Secure!" Tylo called, before approaching the Lanteans.

Atheon saluted the Commander, who waved away his attention.

"Colonel Sheppard, good to see you active again," Tylo greeted John with a smile. "I've got two other teams equal in size running an estate-grab. We need to secure defences before Karasan's group gets here."

John stood, lowering his P90 to scout. "Crap, did you say Karasan is coming here?"

"Yes," Tylo said, moving off the stage and towards the main entryway. John and the Lanteans followed. "The Justicer is hot on his heels, but he'll get here before she does."

"If the lockout is still in effect then how is he getting around?" Rodney demanded.

Tylo scowled. "His group took prisoners during the battle at the Coliseum. Specifically prisoners that carry the genesong."

"Son of a-"

"Where are they coming from?" John asked as they paused at the top tier, just inside the terminal room.

"South end," was Tylo's succinct reply. "Thirty soldiers are securing the west end, the rest of us must prepare to hold the line. These tarsats are determined to take Atidum offline." He then paused, gestured sharply forward, and bellowed, "Move out!"

As the Protegan soldiers moved, Atheon among them, having acquired an impetus rifle, John nodded to his enlarged team. "We'll follow Tylo's lead; he knows the place pretty damn well."

Eleven Lanteans nodded back to him, and together they fell in with the Protegans.

Moving through the hallways again finally made the passage of time real for John, the dark night lurking out every window and skylight. Stalking through the dim rooms, John wished they had their night-vision goggles. Flashes of light flared every time any of the eight working cannons fired, valiantly persisting against the Replicator ships as though they might beat them back yet. Sheppard wasn't fooled for one second.

Moving quickly and efficiently, Tylo dispatched his fireteams to key points around the south end of the base, heading for the hangar himself. The Lanteans went with him, as analysis had singled out the hangar as the insurrectionists' most likely entry point.

Near the hangar doors, stuck open since before the lockdown, were gun emplacements surrounded by battlements meant for defending the hangar against invaders. As Tylo's two remaining fireteams and the Lanteans made for them, they were accosted.

A swarm of white-clothed people cut them off, pointing long, elegant rifles at them as their leader yelled. "Drop your arms!"

Tylo shook his head, aiming his bulky rifle directly at the leader, as the soldiers and Lanteans steadied their own rifles, prepared for a fight. "Shoulder your weapons or be fired upon!"

"Identify yourself!" the leader replied, a hint of uncertainty in her tone.

"Commander Tylo, now shoulder your weapons!"

The leader then dropped her weapon to scout, straightening to stand at attention. Those under her command moved in sync, like puppets on a string.

"What in the hells are you honoris doing here? You were supposed to be among the first evacuated, Amaria," Tylo demanded. The honoris were a special branch of the defence corps that were trained only to guard and protect. They were actually the first Protegans Sheppard and his team had met, who had acted as an honour guard during their first visit to the planet.

Amaria pursed her lips. "Sir, we found out there were wraith in our facility. Some of us don't like leaving the job half-done."

Lowering his impetus rifle, Tylo sighed in annoyance. "You should have let it go. As it stands, we need your assistance, so let's move on."

"Whatever you need, sir," Amaria replied.

"The insurrectionist leader Karasan wants to take the Protectorate facility and offline Atidum permanently, and he's headed for your hangar," Tylo said.

"Say no more." Amaria turned, and the honoris split, the twenty of them moving into groups of five and organising themselves to quickly take up defensive positions.

Tylo nodded at the elegantly dressed soldiers, then started deploying his own fireteams with the Lanteans backing them up. Spreading out further into the hangar, Sheppard started to spot even more of the honoris already in position, their unnatural stillness making them easy to miss.

Once AR-1 had taken up a spot supporting one of the gun emplacements, the lethal tripod-mounted machine gun manned by an engineer, Rodney tapped John's shoulder to get his attention.

"How do we know these honoris aren't buddies with Karasan's guys?" he asked in a low whisper, "I mean they didn't do anything about the wackos attacking us in the terminal room."

John opened his mouth to agree with Rodney's concerns when the closest honoris calmly answered. "We'd just finished driving the remaining wraith into the hangar when the lockdown went into effect. We got stuck in here, but we made short work of the parasite."

Rodney looked sceptical, but John had noticed a sharp tang in the air, signifier of the use of chemicals for corpse disposal.

"If it helps," Ronon offered, "if they wanted us dead they could have shot us down the second we stepped in here. They have us outnumbered two-to-one."

John could see Rodney doing the numbers in his head, carefully counting the fifty honoris then paling.

"I don't think it helped," John muttered to Ronon, who shrugged.

It was another few minutes before the sound of rotors announced the arrival of Karasan's group.

The second the stolen avems came into sight, the four machine gun turrets ripped into life, the tracer-rounds shredding the incoming aircraft. The avems didn't shy away. John's eyes widened as he realised they were a kamikaze run.

"Take cover!" he yelled, ducking behind the battlements.

Seconds later, metal shrapnel was flung everywhere through the open hangar doors, prematurely triggering the explosives Tylo's demolitions experts had laid against infantry. The metal battlements buckled ominously under the force of the debris from the crashed avems, but held.

As the air began to clear of smoke, they came under heavy fire. Sticking his head up for a quick look over the protective battlements, Sheppard saw two companies of insurrectionists charging into the hangar, spraying wildly at their defensive emplacements.

The engineer beside them braved the firestorm, jumping up and manning the turret again, using the tracer rounds to cut down the forward lines. Sheppard moved with him, providing covering fire, his team and the Protegans following immediately.

The insurrectionists did not slow, and soon took the forward placements, using executing head-shots at close range, slaughtering the soldiers stationed there. They were then able to hide behind the battlements of those defensive positions, commandeering the machine guns. They moved and fought with desperate ferocity, not only attacking but running, because hounding them like the dogs of hell was the Justicer and _her_ soldiers.

Her helmet off, half her head shaved from the rushed surgery, the other half unbound and snapping in her wake, Dianna sprinted into the hangar, her fireteam matching her step-for-step. Behind them, too many fireteams to count followed.

As one, the Justicer's soldiers slowed, until they were stalking, and opened fire on the pinned insurrectionists. Sheppard quickly noticed that the only renegades that were shot at were the ones who tried to shoot first. As the insurrectionists themselves picked up on this, a handful threw away their weapons entirely, only to be shot by their own teammates.

"_Deploying grenades,"_ a crisp voice informed Sheppard on his comm.

"Cover!" John advised, his team and the Protegans ducking back behind their cover as two _booms_ sounded.

Resuming fire, Sheppard saw the turrets the renegades had taken were now scrap metal, thanks to the two grenades the soldiers had made use of. In the absence of enemy tracer rounds, five terra vagari ripped up the runway and into the hangar. Swinging to a stop they presented their sides to the insurrectionists as they over took the Justicer's infantry. The large, armour-plated military vehicles provided cover from the insurrectionists' fire, and the engineers manning the cars' swivel turrets let loose into the renegades.

Now receiving heavy tracer-round fire from two sides, the insurrectionists were royally screwed. Sheppard heard Rodney cursing and gagging, as the physicist turned away from the grisly sight of the insurrectionists, human beings regardless of their actions, being _pulverised_ by the armour-shredding bullets.

After a moment that lasted an eternity, the Justicer ordered a cease-fire.

Dead silence fell inside the hangar, the last empty casings tinkling on the floor as they rolled to a stop. Tension grew as the Justicer and her fireteam strode forward unaccompanied, gingerly searching through the bloody mess until they found-

"Karasan," Xerath said in a cold voice, staring as the former Commander shoved a body off of himself. "Ever the survivor."

The leader of the insurrection glared up at Xerath, panting with pain, blood leaking from under his vest. "To hells with you."

"Tell the renegade soldiers to stand down," Xerath ordered.

Karasan coughed blood and flipped the bird.

"_Please_," Dianna suddenly begged, "tell them to stop interfering with the evacuation. The citizens' lives are far more important than this petty feud!"

"All this blood," Karasan gestured around him, "is on your hands. Can you live with that? With what you've done to Protegat? I won't help a murderer like you."

Dianna's face went hard. "This is not about me, nor is it about you. Help our people."

Karasan smirked, red bubbling on his lips. "No."

Xerath nodded to herself. "Then with the authority of the Comminatio Protocol I deem you a threat to the citizens of Protegat, who I am sworn to protect above all else. Karasan, stripped of rank for your atrocities at the Protectorate Coliseum, you have been hunted down for your crimes against the people of our planet." The Justicer holstered her rifle on her back, smoothly drawing and cocking her pistol, aiming it at Karasan's head. "You are dishonourably executed for desertion, insurrection, and endangering the survival of our people."

The single gunshot echoed throughout the hangar.

* * *

They didn't bother too much with clean up afterwards. With the intent to abandon the whole planet, there wasn't much point. The Justicer had enough debris removed that avems could still get in and out, and left it at that. Then they were redeployed, leaving a certain number with the honoris to properly guard the facility so that no further attempts to forcibly lift the lockdown could be made. The rest of the Protegan soldiers were sent out, either to look after evacuees or go after the remaining insurrectionists throughout the city.

John and the Lanteans stood with the Justicer, fireteam Auros, Consulate Pacem, and Commander Tylo on the hangar runway, discussing exactly what had happened with the city AI. Not having too many memories of the actual events, John found his attention drifting, staring up at the distant night sky.

He watched the whorls of colour in the nebula drift lazily, randomly illuminated by the cannons' fire. Somewhere up there, the Replicator ships hung impudently, caught up in a cybernetic battle with Atidum. Two lots of ridiculously complicated code throwing data at one another in a battle John could not even begin to imagine.

A plume of electric blue bloomed out of no-where, like an explosion in space. Narrowing his eyes, John realised it was no trick of the light- something had blown up in orbit.

Panic set in, and he cast eyes on Rodney before a comm call abated his fear.

"_I don't believe it! We've blown one of the battleships up!"_

Excitement spread on all their faces, a kind of disbelieving hope.

_That wasn't one of our ships then,_ was Sheppard's relieved thought. The second he had it though, it was erased by a growing warning in his brain. Lowering his head, searching his thoughts, John realised where it was coming from, and without further examination he broke into a sprint.

"Sheppard!"

He ignored his worried teammates, who followed after a moment as John raced to the nearest terminal room.

Leaping through the door to the first terminal room he found, he bounded down the ramp of the small room. "Talk to me, Atidum," he panted, his teammates and the Protegans catching up as he slowly caught his breath.

"_They have found me,"_ Atidum's double-timbre voice echoed through the room, not bothering to project its avatar.

"But you've been bouncing your signal off all the Ancient tech being operated- the LSDs, our Puddlejumpers…" Rodney protested.

"_No longer sufficient."_

"What can we do?" John pressed. The evacuation was only half-way complete; if they lost Atidum now hundreds of thousands would die.

"_Beyond your control. I am warning you so that you may seek alternate means of protection."_

The Justicer stepped forward. "Atidum, _please_, you have been our guide all our lives. There must be _something_!"

"_Negative."_

Xerath nodded sadly, then gave Atheon a significant look. "Then pursuant to article Alpha-eight-six-nine-theta you shall be retired for final dispensation."

Atheon approached the console on the stage, only to be blocked and pushed back by a solid hologram. Atheon looked at the projection in shock, then turned to John with a slightly accusatory stare.

"Atidum," Xerath chastised, "prepare for final dispensation."

"_Fifteen thousand years I have watched over this planet. If you think I will abandon my post now you are mistaken."_

"Destruction or capture of an Ancestral AI is unacceptable," Xerath said in a warning tone, "I will not risk your loss."

"_I am seeing this through."_

"Atidum!" The Justicer waited expectantly, but received no reply. The hardlight hologram protecting the console remained, encircling the terminal like a giant blue crystal.

"Well," Atheon said with a sigh, "now we know it _did_ pick up on the Colonel's personality when it re-grafted itself off him."

Sheppard frowned. "That's not my fault!"

"No," Atheon said ruefully, "it also can't be undone. There's nothing we can do, Justicer."

Xerath pursed her lips, then spun on her heel and left. And as they had no choice, everyone followed.

As they reached the corridors, Sheppard tapped Atheon's shoulder. "We'll head back to our jumpers. We'll be in the air if you need us."

Atheon looked to Tylo, who nodded. "See you 'round," the Consulate said as he followed the Justicer back to the hangar.

The Lanteans headed in the opposite direction, to the north grounds. When they came across their jumpers, Sheppard felt a little self-conscious. Jumper One was parked… not great. Sitting askew in a shallow furrow of dirt on the once-immaculate lawn from his blind landing, Bitters' and Lorne's jumpers were neatly parked a few metres to the side of it.

Waving an annoyed hand at the smug and slightly teasing looks on the two other recon teams' faces, Sheppard entered Jumper One without commenting. As the three jumpers got settled and started to take off, John's headache climbed.

"Headache's back!" Rodney commented angrily.

John rolled his head in an attempt to relieve it. "I think Atidum's reaching its last leg." The pain in his head shot up quickly. "Crap, I can't… I can't see again," he growled.

Sheppard tasted bile, and as sweat popped out all over his forehead he knew if it got any worse he'd pass out. Pressure inside his head built, until it felt ready to burst. Blood trickled from his nose, his ears.

As suddenly as it had come, the headache left, a cold feeling of emptiness replacing it.

Sight returned, and John hurriedly checked on the other jumper pilots, then a ball of yellow shot down from the sky, and cannon two violently blew up.

Rodney brought up an analysis on the HUD, and John's blood ran cold.

The Replicators were now firing at will upon the planet with their warships' drones. Even with one of their three aurora-class ships destroyed, the city would be annihilated in no time.

Panicked voices lit up all comm channels as more and more drones rained down.

"_Out of the way, Sheppard!"_ Commander Fireforge barked over the jumper's comms.

John looked around wildly while the HUD informed him of a bogey coming up behind them. The three jumpers quickly moved away, scattering as the pilots prepared to deal with the Jetstream the incoming gladius would leave behind.

"Fireforge, what are you doing?" John asked as the jumper reported the gladius on an intercept course with a drone headed for Stargate Control.

"_Tell them to make it count,"_ Fireforge said, speeding directly into the path of the drone and exploding into nothing less than a klick above the skyscraper.

"Oh my God!" Rodney exclaimed.

Elsewhere around the city, avems were moving to shield key points of defence from the drone fire. Sheppard swallowed a curse at the sacrifice the situation demanded.

"Rodney, can we use the cannons to shoot out the drones before they destroy Stargate Control?" Sheppard demanded as the physicist stared into space.

Snapping out of it, McKay considered John's question. "No! Well, not as they are. Maybe, a very very slim maybe, they could be reprogramed to fire a smaller charge so we don't risk too much collateral damage."

"Right," John said, moving the jumper, "then that's where we're going."

When they arrived at the cannon closest to Stargate Control, Rodney headed straight to the maintenance floor, diving into the inner workings to jerry-rig the weapon. Sheppard assigned Bitters' team to stay with the physicist and protect him. John, Teyla, Ronon, and Major Lorne and his team headed for the outer deck, where the Lanteans' rail gun turrets were set up.

"Lorne, get your team on the rail guns, shoot any drones that get close," Sheppard ordered, walking around the wrap-around platform in search of the ladder rungs to climb up to the cannon's cab.

"Colonel!" the Commander in charge of the cannon called.

"Yes!" John said, "Sorry, we're busy, what do you want?"

"What are you doing at my cannon?" the Commander demanded.

Sheppard gestured angrily. "Trying to save the planet, next question."

The Commander snapped then. "Colonel this is unacceptable!"

John shook his head. "I don't have time. Lorne, fill him in!" John commanded, then climbed the rungs into the cab as Lorne approached the Commander.

"Hey gunner," John greeted as he stuck his head in the cab, hanging off the side in the cool night. "I'm relieving you, go take a break," he said with a friendly smile.

"Yes sir," the gunner replied, clambering past Sheppard then making their way down. John swung himself into the cab proper, and grabbed onto the controls.

"McKay, I'm in position."

"_Give me a moment, Colonel, this isn't something the cannon was designed for,"_ Rodney said, _"I'm doing this as fast as I can."_

Sheppard nodded, even though Rodney wouldn't see it. "I have faith in you, Rodney."

"_Thanks, 'cause I sure as hell don't."_

In the meantime, Sheppard practiced tracking the high-speed drones, trying not to think too much about the gladius and avem pilots that were sacrificing their lives to buy precious seconds. The cannon HUD picked out a volley heading for Stargate Control, and John hurried to hail the last gladius, to inform them of the trio of drones.

The gladius went super-sonic, one long, continuous _boooooooooooooooooooom _drowning out all other sound in the city as it raced to meet the drones.

Closer.

And closer.

And closer.

_Schwack-boom!_ The gladius shot overhead of the building, the drones having already reached it. Down, down, down they plummeted, breaking through all 207 stories, finally exploding at the base of the tower.

The shockwave flung dirt and dust at terminal velocity, shattering all glass in its path, cracking stone and concrete. Then, with an ominous groan, the tower shifted, listing towards its heavier side.

John watched with wide, hopeless eyes as the gargantuan skyscraper toppled, crushing the Protectorate facility, knocking over four other skyscrapers and devastating the surrounding city. The ground shook with the force of an earthquake, collapsing what was left of the west watchtower. The last fragments of the tower hit the ground with finality, a signed death warrant for those left on the planet.

Sheppard radioed his men down on the outer deck, checking they weren't injured in the destruction, then checked Rodney and Bitters' team down in the maintenance room.

"_The hell happened?"_ Rodney demanded after ascertaining John was okay.

John swallowed a lump in his throat, before answering in a shaky voice. "Stargate Control got hit. It's gone."

"_Crap. That's it, isn't it? We're doomed."_

Sheppard didn't have an answer. "Just finish the modifications, and pass on the specs to the other cannons."

"_John?"_ Rodney sounded terrified.

"It's not over," John swore, "not yet."

Rodney was quiet for a moment, before agreeing. _"Not yet."_

Tracking the drones, John realised that Sky Fleet Command was being targeted next, and there was nothing they could do about it, even if Rodney had finished the modifications. The mess of runways and control towers was across the other side of the city, with many skyscrapers in between them.

"_I've got it! Forwarding the changes to the other cannons!"_ Rodney crowed.

Sheppard powered up the cannon, and started shooting as many drones out of the sky as he could, firing again and again and again and again and again and again.

More got through though, raining like hellfire on the city. Sheppard tried to be as relentless as the Replicators, but he was so damn _tired._ Pain dominated his senses, sharpened by his exhaustion. Eternity passed and wore him down, but he persisted for all the people still trapped in this hectic combat zone, people who would likely perish here no matter what he did or what he accomplished. The idea of giving up was antithesis to him, the mere thought of it was the ultimate betrayal to those that had already given their lives. He _deserved_ the pain for that alone, deserved to suffer for even thinking about abandoning them to their fate.

The _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ returned then, running the gauntlet and powering towards the mountains, landing on the far side.

"_Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, this is Colonel Caldwell, respond immediately."_

"Sir, this is Sheppard," John replied.

"_Our sensors report Stargate Control has been destroyed, can you confirm?"_

John let out a weary sigh. "Yes, sir."

"_Alright, I'm calling it. All Atlantis personnel prepare for immediate beaming and departure."_

"What?" John yelled into his radio, shocked. "No! Sir! We can keep going with the shipboard-"

"_There is no way to get everyone out before the cannons are lost, and without ground support the _Daedalus _can't get past the Replicator warships,"_ Caldwell snapped. _"It's time to go home, Sheppard. This battle is lost."_

"Colonel, there are _thousands_ of people still trapped here!" Sheppard protested.

Caldwell was losing patience with John, and it rang evident in his tone. _"And there are thousands more being targeted on other worlds around the galaxy, Sheppard. We're at war."_

"Sir-"

"_Colonel Sheppard,"_ the Justicer implored, _"Go. You've done more than I could ever have expected."_

"No," Sheppard barked, "I'll stay by myself if I have to, but I am _not_ leaving!"

"_You're not in command here, Sheppard,"_ Caldwell retorted. _"I'm beaming you all out now."_

Bright white light enveloped John, and though he cursed and railed he could not escape it. In seconds he was standing on the bridge of the _Daedalus_ with his and Lorne's teams.

"Colonel, Major," Caldwell greeted, "I know you've invested a lot in this planet and its people but-"

He broke off as John stormed up to him and, without a word, swung hard, decking his superior officer.

"Sheppard!" Several voices exclaimed as the bridge's security officers drew their pistols.

Panting hard, Sheppard backed away as Caldwell got back to his feet and cast furious eyes on John.

"If you ever do something like that again," Caldwell threatened, "I will send you to the brig, understood?"

Meeting his eyes uncowed, John nodded once.

"Good. I understand you're tired and stressed, but that behaviour is-"

"_Colonel Caldwell, this is Justicer Xerath, respond."_

Giving John a final hard look, Caldwell took his seat and opened comms. "Justicer, you understand there isn't anything else I can do for you, right?"

"_There is one thing,"_ Xerath corrected, _"beam Consulate Pacem aboard and take him to the evacuation point. High Command is being targeted, and I trust no one else to carry out the burden of guiding our survivors."_

Caldwell hesitated, and John glowered at him. "There's no way you're gonna turn down that woman's last request!"

"We can do that," Caldwell finally replied, "have the Consulate drop a recovery beacon, we can use that to lock on to his position."

"_It is done, thank-you Colonel."_

A flash of white and Atheon appeared on the deck with them, looking like he was going to be sick. Rodney and Teyla went to him, Teyla gently grabbing one of his hands.

"Justicer-" Sheppard choked out, "I- I'm so-"

"_Quod gladios autem quod arma,"_ the Justicer replied calmly.

"Axios," Atheon breathed.

The mountains shook, the vibrations traveling up the ship and making the bridge tremble.

"High Command was just hit," a tech officer announced quietly.

Another, stronger shockwave quaked the area, and John inferred that the 288-story building had crashed to the ground. In the wake of that violent tremor, the sensors went haywire.

"What's going on?" Caldwell demanded.

"Something originating from the city," the tech officer replied. Rodney kicked her out of her station to examine it himself.

"What was left of Atidum is dying," McKay said emotionlessly.

What colour was left in Atheon's face drained as he cast horrified eyes on John. "Sheppard!"

John didn't respond, lost in agony. His head hurt like it never had before. He felt his eyes roll back in his head, his legs give out underneath him, and blood start trickling out his nose again.

Then he felt nothing.


	26. Epilogue

The planet had finally fallen silent.

Fierce. That was what they had called the quadwing phoenix. Fierce.

Fierce flew in the quiet skies, its four wings masterfully cleaving the air as Fierce searched. The city was rubble, no people there. If there were people there, they would have chased away the drakes that had started claiming the territory. Fierce tried to do that job for the people, wherever they were.

It was fun to tease the drakes. Drakes were dumb. Fierce was smart. Fierce was quick. Fierce was fierce!

Rocs were dumb too, but the people had never been bothered by them, so when the giant birds descended from the mountains to investigate the quiet city, Fierce didn't care.

Spotting a jaculus scurrying around the ruins of the farm Fierce owned, Fierce called out a challenge. Fierce would not tolerate intruders, not even a jaculus! Especially not a people-eating jaculus! Fierce dive-bombed the reptile before it had a chance to take to the sky itself. Pinning the overgrown winged lizard's head, Fierce quickly nipped at the jaculus' eyes. Jumping back into the air, Fierce pestered the jaculus as it scuttled into the trees. Once Fierce was satisfied it had learnt its lesson, Fierce returned to its farm.

Still no people. Where were they?

The fields were overrun with wildflowers, as it always was after the first storm. That was days and days ago. People liked the wildflowers, and the small people would run among them on their clumsy legs, making that hideous noise that meant they were happy. Fierce liked the wildflowers too. Big bugs came for the wildflowers. Delicious, crunchy bugs. People made the happy noise when Fierce hopped trough the flowers looking for bugs.

Fierce jumped into a patch of flowers, setting pollen adrift in the air. Fierce jumped again. Again. Jump, jump, jump. No happy noises, no people. Fierce jumped and rolled and made Fierce look ridiculous. _Still no people!_ Shaking off Fierce's feathers, pollen floating all around, Fierce launched back into the air.

Why had the sky exploded? Why had the world screamed? Where did the people go? Fierce had checked with the other phoenixes, no one knew where people were, no one's farms were alive. They'd all burned.

What were they to do?

Fierce started searching for the different people. The nice person, the running person, the grumpy person, and the leader person. Maybe they were still out here. Maybe they knew where Fierce's people had gone. Maybe they could bring them back!

Fierce searched for a very, very long time, and grew very, very sad. Fierce could not find them! Fierce got angry. Why would they leave! Fierce was very good! Fierce did its job! Fierce was smart! Handsome! Fierce! Fierce had found home for the different people, and they just ran off! Rude!

Fierce returned to Fierce's farm, to Fierce's favourite tree. It was a good tree. No leaves to be annoying. Good sightlines of Fierce's farm. Fierce wedged into a nice fork in the branches, tucked Fierce's head underwing, and sulked.

It rained again that night. It had been raining a lot. The air was wrong, and each time it rained it got less wrong. Fierce knew the planet was trying to fix the sky. Fierce wanted the planet to bring back the people.

The next day, Fierce set out over the mountains, going further than ever before, to find the people. Fierce found different quadwings there. They didn't own any people. How boring.

One followed Fierce as Fierce tried to search for the people. Annoying.

Annoying followed Fierce everywhere Fierce searched. Maybe Annoying was good company, but Fierce was busy. Annoying wanted to play, Annoying wanted Fierce's attention. Annoying was being very annoying!

But maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to play, Fierce decided as the days drew on. Fierce had still found no people. Fierce went back to Fierce's farm, and Annoying followed Fierce there. The people still hadn't returned, but now Fierce had a friend on the farm. When did Annoying become friend? Weird. Fierce hunted and played and slept with Annoying, and still Fierce waited. It was no bad thing to wait with a friend like Annoying.

Many, many days passed, the cold season came and went, and Fierce got a family. Fierce and Annoying had chicks, and Fierce was very proud. They were called Kind, Grump, Run, and Leader. Fierce and Annoying had beautiful chicks. Maybe people had left so they could have chicks. Maybe it was okay Fierce didn't have people anymore. Fierce had family.

Fierce's family ruled over the overgrown farm now, and they would forever. For Fierce's people, Fierce stayed and grew. Fierce thought they would be proud of that.

In the end, that was all Fierce needed.


End file.
